Blood & Sugar
by When We Stand Together
Summary: The always so innocent, sweet and human Bella is a several centuries old vampire who's seen it all and done it all... So what does someone in her position do with eternity lying in front of her? OOC, AU, violence and gore
1. Preface

_Preface_

"_Pain's not bad, it's good. It teaches you things. I understand that"  
_

Fire.

That's how it all starts.

Red hot flaming fire, seeping through each and every one of your veins. The pain is… unimaginable. The most overwhelming emotion you will ever know in either lifetime.

It creeps slowly from the wound into your bloodstream. Soon enough you start to scream and you can't seem to stop. Your blood is boiling. You skin is crawling. Your eyes water to the point where you feel you couldn't possibly have any more in you. You thrash around, hoping it would diminish the pain, hoping that someone – _anyone_ – is around to take it away. There isn't. Once it hits the blood, there is no going back.

But fire isn't everything. There is much more than pain to understand and experience. After those three long days, the world comes to you at a different pace. You move the same and talk the same – though you can never be completely sure of this for those memories are in too much of a daze – but a mere second has gone by. You find this odd. You aren't sure you like it.

But you soon forget to feel like a freak. For another emotion runs through you. It faintly reminds you of a well known burning but it's not the same. The first fire was in your legs, arms and mind. This burning is restricted to one area.

For a few moments, you are baffled by the overpowering feeling. But in less than one fifth of a second, that feeling is gone. Then you smell it. It smells better than anything you could ever dream of. Before you're aware, your legs start to move. Your mind is not your own anymore.

Despite what some might want you to believe, the first taste isn't the sweetest. It's the best you've tasted… so far. It gets better, more powerful. You know you'll never be able to get enough. You'll never be completely satiated. You don't want to be. You like the feel, the rush. The adrenaline is almost as good as the taste.

It's been four centuries and I can still remember – as clear as I saw yesterday – my first day. But that's us; we don't forget… ever. Every word, every breath, every taste and every touch is categorized and filed away for possible future knowledge.

The world, as with its inhabitants, change with every passing day. We, however, remain in perfect diamond condition. That – believe it or not – was the easiest information to absorb. The constant and undeniable thirst, on the other hand, that was far more tedious. But today, after years – decades – I have taught myself the importance and need of self-control.

The thirst grows the strongest after three weeks. After two, it can get a bit uncomfortable but nothing I cannot manage. But after three weeks, if any human were to step too closely, I will admit I don't think I would be able to stop myself. But after those two weeks, I try to stay clear. Of course, I try to do that most times.

I used to look at existing as a curse. Going through time without flaws seemed like cheating. But once you evolve past silly lingering human thoughts, this life can be quite fulfilling.

It's like a drug but a thousand times more addictive. Walk and you have to jog. Jog and you have to run. As fast as you can. And you will never get tired. Always challenging yourself, always trying to beat your last score. What else is there to do but exploit you gifts when you have all of eternity? There is no point in fighting what's already happened to you. Why not just accept the inevitable and have some fun along the way?

* * *

_**I've been writing this story for a shitload of time. Must be a few months now. However; I wanted to finish Scarred before I started publishing. I don't think I've ever been this prepared before. I know this is barely a summary of what to expect but some time tomorrow, the first chapter will be up and hopefully, it will be more eye-opening.**_


	2. We Are Each Our Own Devil

"_We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell"_

I sometimes find myself wishing I could sleep. Even for just a moment, to be disconnected from the painful realization of reality. It's when times get so excruciatingly melancholy that I find myself at my breaking point.

You think – as an ignorant and childishly naïve individual – you know what it's like. "Facts" only depicts the good side. There's always a good side. I'm not going to down my existence. I am what I am and I deal with that the best I can because – let's face it – there's no way I'm going to die anytime soon.

Sometimes I like it. Not gonna lie. Those sometimes are most of the time. But everyone gets bored, depressed even. Including me. But our depression… you cannot even begin to imagine. It feels so… _wrong_. So… _weak_. I hate feeling weak.

Which is why tonight, I take my time. I want a challenge. Someone who won't crumble to the ground in a fit of tears and despair. That almost made me leave.

Almost.

I rolled my eyes while crouching lower on the short stone wall. Below me, hundreds – if not thousands – of candles smoldered in gold and orange. The fumes rose with black smoke as some flames flickered higher than its siblings. I inhaled the warmth and closed my eyes and as I did so, my mouth instantly opened in reaction. My lips formed into a smile.

The voice stopped speaking and my eyes snapped open. I found my reflection in the enormous golden chandelier hanging above the first row of benches. My limbs were worn in a graceful crouch; fingertips of my right hand barely touching the marble beneath me, while the left elbow leaned casually on the pillar just to my side, hand keeping hair from falling into my face. But what stood out more than a seemingly ordinary and yet so abnormal _girl_, were my eyes. They have always been my best and worst feature. But as my trail gazed across the stone room, I couldn't' help but marvel over my own beauty and freakiness. My irises – mostly a rich red or dark maroon – were almost black. It wasn't just the scent of old dust infested candles that had caught my undeniable attention.

I glanced back down towards the service, watching every individual while simultaneously cocking my head to the side and biting down on my lower lip. I placed my hand against the back of the pillar, pushing myself over the edge just a little.

A small child in the front row looked up at that moment. While I would have expected fear, a scream perhaps – I could have settled for a loud gasp – she merely looked up at me with an easily readable expression; mystification. She stared at me a full human minute before starting to pull at her mother's arm, trying to gain her attention. When she turned her head, I pushed back, off the railing and into the shadows where I'm supposed to belong. I heard her voice with crystal clarity, as if she were standing right next to me.

"Mama. Există o fată pe balcon."

"Shh..."

"Ea are ochi negri."

"Shh!"

How the world has changed. To think that just over four-hundred years ago – barely forty days for someone like me – humans would believe anyone who cried witch. I smirked. If they only knew how close they all were. Of course I would not have them all. That would be foolish. But I could still dream of the fear, the undying terror I would surely witness in each and every one of their eyes.

I walked down the length of the church – too fast for any human to notice if they so happened to glance up – with my feet barely touching the floor. Once I came to the back I jumped back up onto the ledge, crouched down and waited for the priest to finish speaking.

It had started to drizzle outside. Not yet noticeable for the humans but my sensitive ears picked it up as soon as the first drop hit the roof. The sky was completely black, no moon or stars visible from the glass mural behind the shrine. I almost bared my teeth at the gesture.

Do they honestly think a silent prayer from the mind to no one could save them? That lightning would crash into this "sacred" palace and split me in two? Like it could. Like anything could. Such silly pawns. Though I must admit, some of their last responses have amused me greatly.

One woman grabbed at the crucifix around her neck, murmuring prayers in Latin. I had yanked the chain from her. She cried out for it but I had already grabbed her neck and my teeth were an inch away from her vein. They never seem to scream for very long.

There's definitely a difference in tastes. The druggies and smokers are the worst. They're too tainted, the blood's too poisoned. Even the recovering addicts are bad. The taste will linger for months, years even. It's the same with sick people. Drugs really do ruin you. Luckily for me, there're more healthy humans than there are sick. It's hard to have a favorite. Some just smells better than others and sometimes it's hard not to drool.

The priest stopped talking and my focus is once again at the pack on humans below me. Some leave the church right away, hurrying out. The rain had stopped now. Didn't matter. They'd smell just the same. A few – adults mostly – formed a queue to the front, receiving bread and wine before crossing their hands over their chests, whispering a silent prayer.

I feel annoyed at how long it takes – even though I have all the time in the world – it's still tedious to have to wait for your dinner.

As the line diminishes, I rise and look at the roof. A window is perched right above the double entry doors.

Moving too fast for their human eyes to see me, I leaped across the space and grab at the angel statue on the wall, open the window with my other hand and as soon as it ajar, I push through and climb up the roof, peering down at the gatherings. Now I needed to focus.

I couldn't just take anyone. I liked this town. It's so dark during the day. I couldn't risk someone – anyone – looking too closely. While a mythological creature is just that; a myth, it doesn't stop people from believing. I didn't need a groupie figuring things out and put trust in the wrong kinds of people.

My focus is drawn when two humans – one male and one female – leaves in a different direction. I hear them explaining how they want to walk home, declining any offers of a ride. They start going down a dirt path which leads right into the woods.

I push myself back against the roof and tense before leaping into the air.

I slam into the tree, without alerting them. The jump was far and I felt impressed I was able to make it without any preparation. They are barely fifty feet away now. I jump to the next tree, and then the next. Finally, I've had enough and stand up on a thick branch. I simply place one foot over empty space and lean forward. I don't even feel the earth beneath my feet before I start to stalk them.

I cock my head to the side, wondering who will go first. It's always nice to have the male. The girl will run around, yelling for people who cannot hear. Then she will cry and most fun will be over. Fear is better than cries. But the men, on the other hand. They act all tough – like we see in movies – but when time comes; they start balling like babies.

Smirking, I pushed to the other side of the path; ahead of them now. I wait behind the tree, ready to snatch her as soon as I can. Their scents invade my senses, filling my mouth with venom and making my throat ache with the effort to breathe. But I have to. They smell so… _delicious_. I can't stop myself.

When the liquid had coated my teeth to the point where my lips could barely be held down, I reach out and grab the girl before the male can even understand that she's no longer walking next to him. She doesn't have time to scream. She doesn't have time to breathe. My teeth pierce the delicate skin of her throat. The warmth floods down my throat and I have to close my eyes. The emotions are overpowering. I need more. But there never is. The girl goes limp in my arms and I toss her to the side, making a silent promise to come back when her boyfriend's taken care of.

I press myself against the tree and wait. It didn't take long. The boy notice he's alone and whirl around in search.

"Kathryn?" He called quietly, as if she was merely hiding from him in a pathetic attempt at a game. I smirked. I was going to have some fun.

I leaped from the tree, too fast for his human eyes and came up behind a tree ahead of him. I purposefully crunched a few twigs in my way. He turned his head so fast I though the fragile neck would break.

"Kathryn? Acest lucru nu este amuzant." _Oh but it is. It's going to be so much fun._ I cracked another twig to his left. He twirled in a circle.

"Cini-i acolo?"

I moved to his right, grabbing lightly at the hood of his jacket. He jerked away from the touch.

"Este cineva acolo?" I chuckled, loud enough for him to hear. "Ce doreşti?"His pulse quickened. Perspiration covered his forehead and neck. A new wave of venom pooled in my mouth. I swallowed but it was to no use. I was still so very thirsty.

The boy walked towards me. He was braver than I anticipated. Most would run for the hills, screaming prayers for a God that didn't exist and even if he did, nothing would have been able to stop me. Not when I'm set to hunt.

He was just around the bark when I pushed away. I looked from behind a different tree, watching how paranoia and hysteria entered him. His heart was beating so fast. How I was resisting it, I don't know but I was and it never failed to make me proud. Any other wouldn't hesitate, wouldn't care if they didn't get their fun. But I did. It was exciting. Though their resolve was much more limited than mine.

But as fun as it may be; to have this brittle human in panics and his pulse racing, I was thirsty. I wanted blood. I needed blood. But one more thing was to be done.

I jumped up the tree and down to the girl's body and made a noise. The boy shot for the scene, all the while I pushed back up the tree and perched myself on a thick branch. The boy reached my intended destination and when he was at the scene, he fell to his knees and picked the girl up, clearly crying.

"Oh Kathryn …" His weak voice barely carried but I heard without any problem. Then he got up, his nostrils flared. He was mad. I smirked again.

"Cine esti?"

I braced the branch and whistled. The shrill cut through the forest like a razor and I saw Goosebumps appear on the boy's arms. Slowly, he looked up and when he saw me standing there, smiling wide with too pearly white teeth, he whispered in a language I did not know. I jumped down and landed gracefully on my feet.

He was instantly taken by my unnatural beauty. Many were not particularly embarrassed to be seen staring at a – seemingly – small girl. But when his eyes met my black irises, he looked appalled and gained his focus back.

"Eşti un demon?" I laughed and took a step forward, backing him into the tree.

"No... I am much, much worse." I grabbed his hair, yanking his heads to the side and the next second my teeth pierced his brittle skin. He struggled for a second before going limp; passing out, before dying in my arms, just like the girl. He didn't taste the same. But they never did. He tasted… spicier. If it's even possible.

With both corpses at my feet, I looked around for a good place to hide them. The patch where they were walking on was not too wide and I could faintly hear the town on the other side. But by going west, a whole ravine of dangerous routs was yet to be discovered.

I picked them both up with no real effort and sped away.

The hole was bigger and deeper than I planned but it worked better than I thought. Soon – after the animals have had their share – only skeletons would remain. My hands dripped with intestines and shredded pieces of flesh. I had to mess them up. If someone were to come across them, the only evidence of battle couldn't be marks at their necks.

I pushed them both down. They fell and landed with loud thuds.

I pushed the mound of dirt over them, sighing in relief as the job was finally done. The sky was brightening. I needed to clean up. No humans would be out for at least another three hours.

I raced through the forest, finding a lake to clean up in. The image before me was taking from _Friday the 13__th__._ The original. Minus a psychotic mother on the revenge wagon.

Shredding my clothes, I walked into the water. Though I felt no warmth or cold; the liquid felt soft against my diamond body, almost like velvet. The moon was full and made my skin illuminate in the most unnatural way. I pushed beneath the surface and swam across the length before coming up for unnecessary air.

The next hunting night was different. I wasn't feeling up to waiting for hours in a church with hypocritical bastards just to have my fix. It's been almost three weeks since I last fed. The ache was starting to get the best of me. My throat burned every time I came too close to a human but I still resisted. Tonight it wouldn't take long.

I stole a car a couple of miles south in Ruse before racing north to Bucharest. I've been living there for several months now. They weren't suspicious yet – mostly because no one technically knew me – but they would be soon enough. It was almost time for me to move on.

I sat down at the bar in a pub. The jukebox – I'm amazed there are any left – kept playing the same song, over and over again. It was tiring. I ordered a beer with no intention of drinking it. Instead, the bartended sat down a martini in front of me. I stared at the tree dark green chemically enhanced olives pierced on a toothpick in the scentless alcohol before glancing up at the bartender, one eyebrow quirked.

"Nu am pentru acest," I said, annoyed

"Este de la om acolo jos." The aging man stepped away with a sigh. I didn't look to see who this person was since I had no intention of following out with the gratitude that I was sure he was imagining.

"Este acest loc este ocupat?" I rolled my eyes and said nothing. The dude sat down, inclined towards me. I had to remind myself to breath regularly. But with a human this close, my already crumbling self-control was on a fast track to completely evaporating.

"Esti din Bucuresti?"

"New York," I said with annoyance. Maybe if I answered with anything that popped into my mind, he'd take the hint and move away.

"Ah. An American. Don't you want your drink?"

"I don't drink martinis."

"What do you drink, then?" The corner of my lips twitched and I had to fight a smile.

"Nothing you would be interested in."

"Is it illegal?"

"Depends on how you see it."

"How do you see it?"

"Surviving." He studied me for a moment as I swirled the stick with the olives.

"You are absolutely breathtaking."

"I know."

"What do you say about us getting out of here?" I almost laughed. The fact that he thought he had a shot was completely ridiculous. But… he just sealed his deal. I turned my head, letting my full gaze wash over him. His pupils dilated, his heart started pumping faster. He was nervous, but didn't run away. I smirked and held out a hand.

"Follow me." He took it and I led him through the place and out the back. As soon as the door closed, I had the man pinned to the wall. He wasn't too bad-looking. Possibly a four or maybe a weak five.

The man grabbed my ass and I would have been pissed at any other time but right now, I was so thirty I couldn't see straight. I pushed my lips to his, tasting the soft flesh. He quickly caught up in the kiss but soon I pressed harder. Too hard. He started trying to break away but I wouldn't let him. That's when I accidentally bit his tongue. That one drop of blood made my mind go crazy. I pushed into him harder, tearing his tongue to shreds for more blood. I saw the terror flash in his eyes but after I'd sucked for a good minute, his pupils expanded and his heart rate dropped until it finally stopped. I sucked his mouth dry before pulling away. The body went down and I swallowed greedily, tilting my head back. He tasted good. I licked my lips for the remaining drop before looking down at my predicament.

I could leave him here for the police to find him. Though I decided against it; I only got him as far as the dumpster. I'd be long gone by the morning when they would ultimately find him.

I felt satisfied enough to leave early; needing to get back to the stolen car before putting it on fire. I rush back to the apartment I had been renting. It wasn't much. It almost never is. Only one room, excluding the bathroom with a miniscule balcony with a very shady railing. Stepping into the kitchen/bathroom/living room, I spotted my nondescript belongings scattered across the space.

I had very little belongings which mattered enough to bring with me wherever I went. Clothes I could always buy or steal. The same with shoes. I had a laptop and a cell phone, both accompanied with individual chargers. A 40 year old lighter, featuring two angels from the Sistine chapel sighing in unison – amazingly enough, there is still almost a full dose of lighter fuel inside. About 10.000 dollars in five different currencies. A dark silver mood ring with an opal gem from the late 70s – this ring is almost always lodged onto my right index finger – along with a formerly black– now almost grey – tank top featuring the Rolling Stones infamous logo. Come to think of it, I bought those two at the same concert.

An opened deck of cards – all of which had been carelessly strewn over the bedside table – where the Kings, Queens and Knaves have change from their usual royal features to various stages in a Shakespearian play, seeming to silently say well-known lines; raging from Hamlet to a Midsummer Night's Dream. The edges have been worn through years and years of playing but I've been careful to not bend them in any way.

Two passports, one blue while the other maroon; depending on who I feel like impersonating at the time. The last item – lying open on the small desk across the sink, displaying my recent obsession with the gothic building across the street – a hardcover sketchbook which used to be light beige was now filled with various doodling like the windmill of Moulin Rouge and a small patch of tulips from the Netherlands. Pages had been added and pronounced against the restrictions. I gently closed the lid and placed the almost century old book in my newly purchased black cotton duffle bad.

There were more. Things I couldn't seem to part myself with. Momentums I denied ever associating myself with. I could not afford to seem weak or sentimental. Though the both seemed the same to me.

But it was time for me to leave now. I shoved the cards into its confinement while simultaneously ripping the phone charger from the wall and throwing it across the room. It landed with a slight thud against the book.

Zipping the bag and pushing it up my shoulder, I surveyed the room, making sure I wouldn't forget anything I didn't want another person finding. There was nothing to prove my visit than an Italian translated The Scarlett Letter, republished in 1946. I thought about it and then grabbed it before hurrying outside.

One lonely-looking silver BMW with tinted windows idled outside an apartment complex; compelling me to take it as mine and drive off into the sunrise. Ten miles away from town, I stopped at the side of the road to change the license plates to the ones I stole off a different car on the way back last night.

The sun rose high on the sky, spilling sunlight into the car and simultaneously filling it with rays of rainbows and sparkle. I wore black skinny jeans with black mock suede boots, stopping two inches below my kneecaps with the back of the heel a screaming red. The very old loose grey tank top with the Rolling Stones logo across the stomach and a black pleather jacket with the arms reaching down to my elbows. I couldn't wear the real deal. It somehow seemed… disrespectful. If you could believe that.

The road was thinning as I was coming into the town. I reached into my duffle bag and retrieved at pair of designer sunglasses – a _gift _from one of my, ahem, _acquaintances. _I placed them over my bright red eyes and leaned back in my seat, letting the purr of the smooth car calm me even further. I didn't even have to think to know when to make a turn.

Three hours later, I drove into the parking lot of a local mall; parking beneath the structure. I sat in the car – unmoving – for hours. I listened to the weather and when it was reported of a forecast, I left the key in the ignition – the radio still on – and got out. Gathering my duffle bag, I surveyed the lot before finding a replacement.

I stole a white ninety-one rusty beat-up Audi. My only consolation was that I'd be setting it on fire soon enough. The car stopped on me twice before rolling along the lot. If I could still blush, I would have.

When I surfaced, the rain pelted down hard on the roof, making it the only sound echoing inside my head.

I didn't have to drive for long before I found a house I could live in for now. The property was gated, though that would do nothing for someone like me. The bushes were overgrown and the grass was completely yellow with dryness. Until the rain when it became a massacre of mud.

The huge three-story building with roof access was awarded with six visible balconies. The warm exterior colors reminded me of the Italian homes I'd been staying at in the late sixties. I'm sure it used to be quite beautiful once but that beauty was long gone and remaining was a lingering charm. I threw my bag in one of the upper bedrooms with an open fireplace. It's been long clogged up, I could smell the carcasses of several doves but I wasn't planning on starting a fire.

I grabbed a wad of cash before getting into the car again and driving to the closest mall I could find – the same as before, it appeared. I pushed the money into my jacket pocket before stepping out, leaving the door open and making my way towards the escalators.

* * *

_**AN: I would love to know what you think. Is this okay or complete shit? Could it be great? **_

_**And with the translations, I don't know whether it's better if I have the English words right after or if you might be able to guess and then look at the end of the chapter. Please let me know… **_

Translations: 

Mama. Există o fată pe balcon. – **Mama. ****There's a girl on the balcony. **

Ea are ochi negri. – **She has dark eyes. **

Acest lucru nu este amuzant. – **This isn't funny. **

Cini-i acolo? – **Who's out there? **

Este cineva acolo? – **Is anyone out there? **

Ce doreşti? – **What do you want? **

Cine esti? – **Who are you? **

Eşti un demon? – **Are you a demon? **

Nu, eu sunt mult mai rău. **– No, I'm much worse **

Nu am pentru acest – **I didn't order this **

Este de la om acolo jos. – **It's from the man down there. **

Este acest loc este ocupat? – **Is this seat taken? **

Esti din Bucuresti? – **Are you from Bucharest? **


	3. There Is No Sin Except Stupidity

"_The is no sin except stupidity" _

Five hours later, every speck of dust and dirt had been removed from the entire house. I'd bought a desk and a bed. It's all that was needed in my limited time here. Though the bed no real necessity, I liked the feel of lying down and trying to imagine how it would be like to sleep.

The sun has been shining for two days straight now and it was having my metal ADHD crawling against my skin. I wanted to do something, anything that wasn't sitting inside, cooking.

That night I dressed nice. I'd bought new clothes and had every intention to show it off. I pulled a dark grey top with black lace embroidered around the neckline over my head, messed up my hair and pushed the tightest black jeans over my thighs. I slipped my feet into grey dangerously high peep-toe pumps with studs along the toes. Before leaving, I slipped my arms into a long-sleeved dark green cotton jacket with a deep v-neck.

I stole a dark blue Audi – much newer than the white one – and raced into town. I didn't have to drive long or search for a parking spot. I admired the car once I stepped outside and really had a look at it. It had been meticulously cared for. I decided there were humans worth living on this planet.

The pub was dark with too little music and too much smoke. But I wouldn't be staying too long. I scanned the space as I entered, looking for someone – anyone – who had the right look. Not appearance but the depressed loner who watched over his glass like it was his first born. It didn't take more than three minutes.

A Hispanic boy – no older than twenty-five – sat at the far left of the bar. His dark hair shadowed his face, coming down to just below his ears. He dressed okay; jeans, t-shirt and a zip-up hoody. I bit my lip and walked over there, stopping at his right side.

"Is this seat taken?" He flinched at my close proximity but didn't turn to look at me.

"No habla Ingles." I sat down and turned my frame towards him.

"Sure you do. I heard you order."

"Please leave me alone," he whispered, his voice breaking. I cocked my head to the side.

"Come on. I bet it can't be that bad."

"You don't understand," he whispered a few moments later.

"Hey," I said softly, bringing my hand up to his yaw, making him look at me. He didn't flinch when he noticed my lack of temperature. His eye stared into mine before looking away, not at all affected by my unnatural beauty. It took me by surprise. No one had ever resisted me before. "Do you want to come with me?" He swallowed the last of his scotch.

"Not really." His voice wasn't rude and yet I felt angry. How dare he reject me?

"Why not?" My tone was hard. Too hard. Yet he didn't seem to notice.

"I don't do that."

"Don't do what?"

"Go home with random girls I meet in bars."

"I won't be offended. Promise." He looked at me from the corner of his eye.

"I really shouldn't."

"There are a lot of things I shouldn't be doing and I still do them."

"Yeah?" I nodded, taking his hand. He gripped mine and I dragged him off the chair. I threw money on the counter.

"Drink's on me." I pulled him out behind me before letting go of his hand when we reached the car. I would have to get rid of it later.

"Nice ride," he said in passing.

"Thank you. Get in."

I went up behind the boy. He seemed taken with the house, twirling his head around every five seconds. He walked right into the bedroom, looking it over with his back to me.

"Why no furniture's?"

"I don't plan on staying long," I said while taking of my jacket, throwing it soundlessly onto the desk.

"Why not?" He turned around and jumped when he saw I was right behind him.

"You ask a lot of questions." I started walking; with him backing away.

"Maybe I want to know you." I smirked. He was standing by the side of the bed. I raised a finger and pushed him back – all this happened too fast for him to see.

"If you knew," I said while placing one knee after the other by his hips, crawling up his body. "You wouldn't be saying that."

"Knew what?" I smirked wider, placing a finger on his lips.

"You'll know soon enough." I drew my finger down, past his throat, catching the zipper and dragging it down. When his hoodie was open, I beckoned him to sit up and he slipped it down his arms, throwing it on the floor.

Biting my lip, I dragged my nails down his chest, the boy's head pushed back and a moan escaped. I come to the hem t-shirt and pushed the cotton up and over his head. I sat up and removed my top, leaving myself in a dark red lace bra which barely concealed anything, before leaning down to place a soft kiss right above his navel. He moaned again. I dragged my lower lip up and placed a kiss in the middle of his chest and continued dragging my mouth up to his neck.

His hands roamed my back and tangled in my long ringlets. I sucked his skin until blood surfaced in a hickey. Then, biting down – but not enough to break the skin – I flicked the tip of my tongue against the darkening skin. I could almost taste it. I pulled away and the skin slapped back against his neck. The boy gasped.

I crashed my lips against his and instantly moaned. The touch was soft and he was being way too gentle with me. Our tongues explored each other and when I thought I was at my breaking point, I pulled away, pulling on his lower lip. The boy opened his eyes and they widened when he noticed my black irises were staring back at him. He raised a finger and touched just beneath my eye.

"What's wrong with your eyes?"

"Nothing."

"Then how can they be black? They weren't like that before."

"No. They weren't." I pushed a lock of hair away from his forehead. "What's your name?"

He stared at me for a very long time before he swallowed hard and answered; "Amado."

"Well Amado, I do hope you survive this." He looked at me with a confused expression. "It doesn't do any good to scream," I whispered into his ear, placing a small kiss on the shell.

"What?" he breathed.

My teeth were already latched to his neck. His hands came to my hair, trying to push me off. But his human strength was disappearing with each passing second. When I heard and felt his heart about to spot, I pulled away; mouth full of blood. I slowly eased off him, dragging a finger across my lips before sucking on it. He did taste delicious. I took my eyes off the body; fear I might not have enough strength in me to walk away.

He didn't start screaming until sixteen seconds later. I sat down at the desk and put on the loudest hard rock my music collection provided. I leaned back in the chair and looked at the bed. The boy was writhing in agony. I shuddered and looked away. It almost made me feel guilty.

Almost.

His heart grew stronger. He was breathing calmer. I knew it was only minutes away. I came out from the shower, the steamy water felt nice against my skin. Even though I didn't feel it, sometimes it was nice with exploring the human nature within me. The memories may be buried deep, but they are there.

I pulled on a Japanese styled lilac silk robe with deep sleeves. I crossed the floor and sat down next to the boy, one leg beneath my frame.

His heart pushed harder and harder and then… it stopped. Just like that. It stopped and his eyes snapped open. His skin was powder white, his irises the reddest I've ever seen. I remembered them instantly. He needed to feed. Good of me to think of everything.

He met my gaze and opened his mouth but I placed a finger over my lips.

"I have a present for you." I moved away from the bed, not caring if he saw how fast I was going. "I will explain," I said in a normal tone as I moved downstairs – knowing he would hear me perfectly, "but right now, you need to feed." I came back up with a sweet little runaway girl. She whimpered against my touch; extremely terrified. I pushed her down on the floor. She looked at the boy like he could save her. But two seconds later, he moved off the bed and devoured her. She was dead the next minute.

The boy looked at her like he didn't understand what just went down. I kneeled and took the body away from him, tossing it into the bathroom. The boy jumped away from me; scared.

"What did you do to me?"

"I just ruined your life," I said, yanking him off the floor and pinning him to the wall.

"Why?" I placed my lips over his, barely touching them.

"I want to have some fun." I kissed him quickly before pulling away, unbuttoning his jeans.

"Are you going to kill me?" I nodded with a wicked smirk on my face.

"But not yet." He seemed lost for a moment, not sure whether it was serious or not but in the next second, he crashed his lips to mine, as if that could eventually save him. I grabbed his hair and pushed him further into me, wanting to feel noting and everything at the same time.

While dragging my nails down his back, the boy grabbed my thighs and swung me against the wall. I wrapped my legs tightly around his frame while tearing at strap of my robe. The silk fell away and I grabbed at the wall so tightly, it withered in my hand.

We kept going all night long. You think it's good when you're human? Take the most overwhelming emotion you've ever had and multiply it by a thousand. That's about the level of pleasure that could await you. Or pain. Depends on how you see it.

By the time dawn crept around the corner, our seventh round finished and I pushed off the bed, grabbing my robe and strapping it close around my body. I had removed the planks from the window so the sun could stream in. I stared at it with both disgust and envy. What it would be like to walk outside like everybody else. The boy was beside me in a second.

"Won't we burn?" I laughed out loud. It's been a while since someone troubled me with the ridiculous myth that is the vampire lore. I turned my head towards him, taking in his diamond sparkle.

"Not that it matters but everything you've ever read – except one thing – is wrong."

"What one thing?"

"We do feed on blood."

"What about mirrors?"

"Myth."

"Garlic?"

"Tasteful. For humans."

"Coffins?"

"For the naturally dead. Besides, we don't sleep."

"Ever?" I shook my head.

"Didn't you notice how you never grew tired?"

"I didn't think about that." I turned away from him to watch the sun. He was starting to annoy me.

"What's your name?" I tried to ignore him but he grabbed my arm and pushed my so hard against the wall, it made a dent. I frowned. "I'm sorry." He let go and stepped back. It was good he didn't know he was about ten times as strong as I and that – if he wanted to – could kill me within the blink of an eye.

"It's Bella."

"Just Bella?"

"To you, yes."

"I'm thirsty."

"Of course you are," I sighed in annoyance. I knew it – I experienced it – but did he have to sound like such a baby? "Wait here." I ran down to the kitchen and opened the mini fridge I installed the other day. I retrieved three bags of blood I'd stolen from the hospital that same night. It was only for emergencies since it's coldness and sterility. Not in the least appetizing. But it was enough for now.

When I came back up, the boy had ripped the bag from my hand and he put his teeth into it. I rolled my eyes and tossed him another one and then another before he threw his head back and exhaled in pleasure.

"That was nice. Not like the girl but still good." I ignored his childish behavior and went to the laptop, send a quick email before closing the lid, finding the boy standing behind me, looking over my shoulder.

"What are you doing?" I accused.

"Who are you sending that to?"

"None of your fucking business." His eyes flashed but before he had his arms around me, I had him pinned to the mattress, kissing my way down his body to forget he ever saw anything.

My back arched and I gripped the headboard while biting my bottom lip. I let my hand drag down to Amado's lower back as we both caught out breaths. My head fell back against the pillow and I pushed him off me, getting up, looking for clothes.

"I'm going to get dressed now, go into town and find us a few humans. You have to stay here."

"Why? I want to go with you."

"You're new. You can't be around people without causing a massacre. You ripped a plastic bag of blood from my hand before I crossed the threshold. You're staying here." He pushed his lips back up his teeth and snarled. He shouldn't have done that.

I had him pinned to the ground and grabbed his arm, ripping it right off. He screamed in agony. I tossed the limb down and helped him reattach it.

"Don't talk back to me again, understand?" When he didn't answer, I grabbed his yaw and made him look me in the eyes. "Do. You. Understand?"

"Yes," he grumbled and sulked at the base of the wall while I dressed in long cotton pants, chucks, white tank top and the same green cotton jacket as before. I turned to the boy one last time.

"Leave the house and you'll regret it." I pushed my phone down my pocket before racing away to steal a new car.

When I found the right girl, I knocked her over the head and she went limp to the ground. She was thinner then I liked. They tasted better when they ate regularly. I just hoped she didn't have a drug problem.

I drove back to the house and carried her upstairs. But when I got to the bedroom, the boy was not there. I listened but he was not in the house. I growled and dropped the girl carelessly on the floor. I knew I heard a bone crack but I was seeing red. I had told him to stay in the house. What part of that did he not understand?

Stupid boy!

I ran outside and down the street, listening for him; for any screams. It didn't take long for me to find him. A distant cry west alerted my attention and I was there within five seconds. He was greedily sucking on a young boy, barely past the age of ten. A girl – probably the boy's sister – sat crying in the corner, watching with wide eyes as her brother died right in front of her.

He sensed me there and dropped the empty body.

"You stupid imbecile!"I yelled, making him flinch. "I told you to wait at the house!"

"I got bored…"

"Bored? Incroyable! Is that your excuse? You stupid child! Do you have any fucking idea of what you've just done? Go straight back to the house and if you disobey me again, I will tear you apart, limb by limb." The boy cowered past me and disappeared into the night. I turned to the girl. She shied away and started crying again. I walked over to her and hunched down, rearranging my features, looking softer.

"What's your name? Care este numele dumneavoastră?" I asked in a sweet tone, making her forget I'd just revealed my true self.

"Jo- Joana."

"Okay, Jo- Joana," I said with a playfully smile. "Do you speak English?" The girl nodded vaguely.

"A little."

"Good. I want you to do me a favor." I waited until I had her full attention.

"Do you know the boy on the floor?"I inclined with my head and she nodded. "Is he your brother?"She shook her head now.

"He's boy in class. We play when-"

"That's alright… What do you think happened tonight? Tell me the truth."

"That man… he… he came and he… he bit Gabi. Why?"

"Because he's a bad man."

"He kill me?"

"No."

"You?"I cocked my head to the side, deciding.

"No." She barely relaxed from her crouch. "How old are you? Câţi ani ai?"

"Twelve."

"I want you to listen carefully now. Do you understand?" She nodded. "I want you to run home. You will not tell your parents. You will go straight to bed. This will all be a nightmare. If you tell anyone, they won't believe you. They will take you away from your parents and you will never see them again. Do you understand?" I used the full power of my stare on her. She swayed as if drunk, completely transfixed. "Tell me."

"I understand."

"Good." I smiled and ran a hand down her hair, leaning in close. "Close your eyes and cover your ears. You can leave when you've counted to twelve." She closed her eyes and I stood up. "Count loudly."

"Unul." I dried up the drop of blood still on the floor.

"Două." I picked up the boy's body, slinging him over my shoulder, watching to see if she was doing what I told her. She was.

"Trei…" and then I disappeared. I carried the body to the mountain behind the house, dug a hole; much bigger than necessary. Dismembering the tiny body was not something I particularly enjoyed. But it had to be done. One limb after another fell with a thud against the dirt. The sound would forever be etched into my brain.

When I returned to the house, I was covered in dirt and mud; not in the least bit prepared to deal with a rebellious newborn. He would have to be destroyed and I had to leave. So soon. And I actually liked this house. But it was just a house, as this was just a place.

I walked slowly, making him see just how upset I was.

"I'm sorry–"

"Sorry is not good enough!"

"I didn't mean to–"

"I'm sure you didn't. But you just caused me to have to pack up and leave again. After barely a week!"

"Why? No one will know."

"People talk. They will notice if we never surface in the sun. They will make the connection."

"So what if they do. We'll kill them."

"We'll kill– you stupid little inbred! We cannot kill every last human! Do you even have a brain?"

"What would happen if they were to find out?" If I still had blood, it would have gone cold about now.

"What would happen? There are rules to be followed!"

"What rules?"

"We are not to be discovered! We need to be a secret!"

"Who would know?"

"The– That is not important." He looked down, ashamed.

"I'm sorry." I sighed, getting into character.

"I know you are. Everyone makes mistakes. Doesn't mean it's not any less… _inconvenient_." I sat down on the side of the bed, my back towards him. I both felt and heard him come up behind me, sliding his knees along the comforter.

"Let me make it up to you," he whispered seductively, one hand moving gently down the length of my arm, while the other whisked my hair to the side and pushed my head away, revealing my neck.

"And how do you plan on doing that?" I murmured back, biting my lip as he kissed and nibbled up and down my skin.

He didn't answer but leaped off the bed and stood before me, grabbing my wrist. I followed him into the bathroom where he started the shower. When we were both undressed, he captured my lips against his, walking me into the water.

He grabbed and squeezed my flesh as often as he could, pushing me into the wall. The tiles cracked under the pressure of both our bodies.

He moved so fast, I almost pulled my hair out. I settled for biting at him every chance I got. The pleasure was everywhere. And yet I needed more. Much more than what he could give me. In a way, I was going to miss him.

My teeth tore through his skin, too deep this time. His movements' stopped enough to pull away but I was faster. I tore his head off, making him fall back against the floor. I chugged the limb to the tiles and started dismembering the rest.

I finished my shower, stepped over the boy's remains, and dressed in comfortable jeans, t-shirt and blue wool jacket. I quickly packed up my things once more. I left my duffle bag outside while running back in to take care of the boy.

When I entered the bedroom again, I noticed the bundled shape in the corner. The girl I brought home earlier. She hadn't moved and she had no pulse. I must have broken her neck accidentally. It didn't matter.

I opened every single bag of blood and emptied the content on the floor of the bedroom and bathroom, covering both bodies. I pulled out my lighter and set the bed on fire. The flames quickly spread to the curtains and then to the clothes I had laid over the floor and finally, to the girl. I didn't leave until I heard the crackling coming from the bathroom; the boy having been set on fire as well. I quickly ran outside, watching the smoke rise and flames crush the remaining windows. When I heard the sounds of fire trucks in the distance, I grabbed my bag and disappeared into the night.

* * *

**I'm not sure where exactly this story will lead and eventually end but since I've never come across another story quite like this one before, I'm all for I'm going to compy something; if you don't feel like writing a review, just paste in a :) or :(  
**


	4. Who Said Nights Were For Sleep?

"_Who said nights were for sleep?"_

In the middle of September, the rain came… and never left.

It's the first week in October and even I am beginning to feel the constant and tedious pelting of raindrops against the roof. I had put no effort into the latest residential staya dn was silently punishing myself for it. I grumbled while twirling a lock of my hair – my arm above my head – as I rested on one of the benches.

The constant sound of a drip – not twenty yards away – was driving me both figuratively and mentally insane.

I couldn't believe I was staying in a vacant church with over fifty birds. I'd officially hit rock bottom. My own version of hell. Boredom. And it would all be so much better if I didn't have to listen to that inane dripping!

That fucking drip was ruining my train of unnecessary paranoia. I sat up straight and looked towards the disturbance. Fucking rain. I stood up on the bench and jumped; landing on the railing of the second landing.

I hopped down and went to find the small puddle. It was more like a pond at this point and I snarled when I saw two pigeons sitting at the floor, dipping their beaks into the liquid. They leaped away when I approached. The sound eased and I could think again.

I hopped back up on the railing, walking along the length – around the entire room – before coming to a stop where two wooden French doors hung ajar – the glass broken and dirtied with age. I landed soundlessly on the floor and walked cross the creaking wood into the darkened room.

I went to the window by the desk and ripped away the huge piece of plywood; nailed there for cover. The air was warm – considering. The rain showered straight down with no interruptions from the wind.

I sat down on the sill, one leg curled and the other on the floor of the room. I stretched out my hand, catching a drop in my palm. I felt the impact and the tiny splatter the drop makes which the naked eye of the average human cannot witness without the prober tools or machines. I pressed my thumb and forefinger together and could literally feel the grains of pollution in the water.

Even with the rain, the city was awake. The medieval town lit up by candles, torches and road lights. Several yards below me, unsuspecting people went by in a hurry. Whether it was from the cold – that they kept their hands tight against their necks – or if it was that they unconsciously suspected something sinister within these darker part of town; I did not know. But I didn't want those humans. It's too easy. Having them come to you. I grew bored with that centuries ago.

I wanted another challenge. Someone who actually knew how to fight back, who wouldn't run around like a lost puppy. Oh, that'd be great. Maybe I should have a soldier. It's a large desert over there. Someone could go missing. Ugh! But then I'll risk getting shot and people might notices when I don't bleed and I can't kill everyone. Despite the fact that that does sound enticing.

My head fell back and a sigh erupts from deep within my throat. This eternity stuff could be such a drag sometimes. I kept banging my head back until a beep came from the computer. I was there in a flash, opening the top.

I scanned the email within two second before jerking upright, grabbing my jacket and flashing out the window while pulling it up and over my arms and shoulders.

The cobblestones made nothing to worsen my coordination skills but I could see humans having problems. The excessive alcohol didn't help, I presumed. I started walking down my right as soon as I hit the street. I'd come down too fast for anyone to notice and I saw none pay any attention to me before I accidentally bumped into a tall man wearing a long trench coat. I said nothing but kept on walking. I paid no attention to his grumble of annoyance.

I kept my eyes straight forward as the street opened up wide and store after store littered the sidelines. Everything was closed except the restaurants and a small pharmacy at the corner. I turned left up a narrow stone staircase, coming into a small garden for those in the apartments above. I walked across the mushy grass and exited through a black iron gate.

I followed right up another set of stairs until coming to the free-way. There were no cars tonight. Especially on this road. It was mountainside and the rain made the curbs too dangerous so during most storms, it was shut down.

I looked behind me and saw the entire city lying at my feet. Miles away, just barely recognizable for me; the Bran castle. Its part of the reason I chose Braşov. Or Romania for that matter. The irony is too thick to ignore. I turned back and sprint down my left. None would see me in the weather and if any cars neared, I would hear them.

At the very outskirts of town, the hospital gloomed large at the side of the giant mountain, as if becoming one with it. The front door opened automatically to let in an older woman, leaning on a younger man. She didn't have long. It was unintentionally but I automatically scanned in on her breathing and heartbeats. Shallow and fast. I could almost smell the light sheen of perspiration on her forehead. Pneumonia.

But I wasn't entering through the front doors. I flashed to the back of the building and found the door easily, though it wasn't marked. It was locked on the other hand but that was no stop to me. It groaned in protest but gave away and I was inside. I all but jumped down two flights of stairs until I reached the foundation of the basement. The fluorescents gave away a blue-like light as I passed down the corridor. The smell of decay lingered through the air. I came to the end of the hallway; to the only room which had any windows, so to know what's inside.

Security.

The guard jumped back at my approach and was out the open door within seconds. I backed away a few steps and relaxed my features.

"I'm here to see the coroner."

"You're not supposed to be down here," he said, suspicious and nervous, with a thick accent.

"I was invited." He looked up to his left and from my peripheral vision; I could make out the gleaming red dot of a security camera recording our every move. That's inconvenient. I gave him the most innocent smile I could muster.

"What's your name?" He drew his hand back just a little. I saw a Glock 17 strapped to his hips and had to act fast. My smile dropped and I flashed up to him. He flinched and watched with wide eyes how I grabbed his throat, crashed him back into the wall and lifted him up. My lips curled back in a snarl but the noise was held back by the appearance of whom I came here to meet.

"Stop it." My lips came down and I dropped the guard. He landed hard on his ass and groaned. I turned my head, letting my body still face the crumbled man.

"Henry," I said with a nod. He looked at the guard with concerned eyes and I glanced back down. "Why don't you go back inside? I'll be right there." After shifting his posture twice, Henry left us alone in the hallway.

I sank down into a crouch and looked the guard in the face. He didn't meet my gaze. I grabbed his chin and held it up. I stared straight into his eyes, making him believe everything I was about to say.

"You will go back inside and destroy the security tape from the camera up there. Spill your two-hour old coffee on the player and say it was an accident. You never saw me here and you definitely didn't see me lift you up like you weigh half-a-pound. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Alrighty then." I smiled, patted his cheek – hard – twice and then went into autopsy room number three. I closed the door and clicked the lock. Henry Hallward is a thirty-four year old through-and-through English fellow from Sussex whom I met roughly nineteen years ago. Ah the eighties. The fashion was as bad as the music was excellent. Long story short; vampire lives in London. Vampire gets invited to a party. Vampire gets bored and thirsty. Vampire sees lonely boy in the corner.

One thing led to another and he found himself up on the roof at two o'clock in the morning. The pettiness was emanating from every single pore in his body and I'm not sure what happened but somehow, he got off the ledge. After swearing he was going to do it.

"_So are you going to jump or what?" I asked after having stood by the stairs for a good ten minutes. The guy just stood there, staring into the seemingly endless abyss of oblivion and asphalt. He jumped at my voice, which was now right beside him. I'd come here for a quick fix. If only I could take real drugs and have even one fifth of the affect it has on humans. _

"_Who are you? What are you doing up here?" His accent was kind of cute. If I hadn't planned on having him for dinner, I probably would have fucked him. _

"_Let's not go through the same inane questions, shall we?" He stared at me, his gaze drunk and fogged. Ugh, he was a user. I frowned, crossing my arms over my chest. "Are you jumping of what?" _

"_I– I don't know." A sigh. _

"_Then you're really of no use to me." I turned to leave. _

"_Wait." I did, looking at him over my shoulder. _

"_Yes?" My body followed my gaze. _

"_Who are you?" An eye roll. _

"_I already asked if we not do this. I really have better things to do. Well… technically I don't, but it sound better if you do." _

"_You're not from around here." _

"_Nice observation there Sherlock." _

"_What are you doing up here?" _

"_Gazing." _

"_What's your name?" _

_I just smirked. _

"_Are you gloating at the failure that is my life?" _

"_Noo..." _

"_I'm going to jump." _

"_Really? Because I was standing back there for over ten minutes. You're not jumping." _

"_And why not?" _

"_Because something, somewhere, someone in your life is still worth living for." I rolled my eyes and sat on the ledge, two feet away from him. _

"_I'm actually afraid of heights." _

"_Then the irony must be killing you." _

"_Most people would try to get me down." _

"_I'm not most people." _

"_Do you want me to jump?" _

"_Doesn't really matter, you're of no use either way so… do as you like but if you do splat, I can't say I'll have the strength to stay away." _

"_What?" _

"_Never mind." Sigh. _

"_I want to jump." _

"_So jump." _

"_But not to die." I leaned over and looked down. _

"_Hate to break it to you but we're on the twentieth floor. You will die." _

"_I want to know what it feels like." _

"_What? To die?" _

"_The rush of falling." _

"_Go bungee jumping. I've heard it's awesome." He looked down at me like I was crazy. _

"_Are you high?" _

"_No." I scrunched my brows. _

"_Why are you acting like this?" _

"_Like what?" _

"_Normal. Like this is something you see every day." _

"_Maybe I do." He turned to look down again. _

"_Are you sure you're not high?" _

"_Positive…" I took a deep breath, the scent of warm blood washed over me but something in me didn't want to eat this human. I told myself it was because of his obvious drunken ways. _

"_Maybe I should get down." I gazed up and smirked. _

"_Do as you wish. But I gotta bounce." Dawn was approaching fast. I could see the colors building in the horizon. I jumped off the ledge and pushed my hands into my jacket pockets, pretending to be cold. _

"_Aren't you staying for the sunrise?" _

"_Definitely not." _

"_I want to see you again." _

"_Trust me, you don't." _

"_What's the harm?" _

"_This is." I flashed over to him, dragged him down to earth and pushed his back into the wall. His heart beat faster with fear. I gazed into is eyes and let him go. "This didn't just happen. You fell down. Isn't that right?" I narrowed my eyes. _

"_Yes." I started walking away. _

"_What's your name?" _

"_We still on that?" I shouted loud enough for him to hear. _

"_Please?" I stopped and turned my head, mulling over my options. _

"_It's Marie." _

"_Thanks for this Marie," he said while motioned back towards the ledge. _

"_Thanks for what?" And with that, I raced down the stairs at an inhuman pace. _

Back to present time, Henry was looking at me with an unreadable expression on his pretty face. "What was what?" He hushed across the room. I moved in normal speed to sit down on a small metallic stool.

"He was asking too many questions. I wasn't in the mood to answer."

"You can't go around doing shit like that." I huffed and picked at a tray of instrument.

"So what did you want to show me?" I watched the light flash over the scalpel as Henry opened one square door and pulled out a tray. Instantly, the smell of death hit me like a tidal wave. But it wasn't the only scent.

"What is that?" I asked from behind him. He just barely flinched but I caught it. I'd have to make sure to tease him about that later.

"I was hoping you could tell me." He folded the light blue sheet back to reveal a young woman with pale blonde hair. I guess she would have been pretty but with four deep gashes etched forever into her face and upper torso made her look disfigured and horrific. Her neck had also been ripped open, attaching the head with barely a sliver of skin. I touched one scar with the gentlest touch before retrieving my hand.

"I don't know."

"It's not…"

"Me? No. I would never be this obvious."

"Do you have a visitor or…"

"None that I know of. But…" I touched the scar again before taking the fingers up to my nose, inhaling deeply. I scrunched up my nose in disgust. Now I smelled it everywhere.

"What is it?" Henry asked as I took a step away, rubbing the sleeve of my jacket against my nose, trying to get the smell away.

"You can't smell that?" Henry raised a brow.

"It's the body–"

"That is not the body," I accused, walking away to wash my hands; drenching them in soap.

"I don't smell anything." _What is wrong with him?_ I came back, bearing rubber cloves this time. "It's been labeled an animal attack. I confirmed it by sight alone. But if it were to happened again…"

"I can't be sure but it does not seem like a vampire did this."

"How do you know?"

"We drain before scratching them. There's still blood in the wound."

"Could it be someone new? You told me that–"

"They get messy. But not this messy. They crave the blood more than anything and want it all. Not one drop is to be spilled. That's the only thing they do with care."

"So it's… an animal?" Henry looked at me with expectant eyes.

"Unless there are mountain lions or she stumbled into the Zoo, I don't think so… Do you mind if I take some pictures?"

"Not at all." I pulled out my phone and took some shots before shoving it in my back pocket.

"Do you know who she is?"

"No. No purse or ID. The police have fingerprints running through the system." I nodded, not really hearing him anymore since I spotted a white triangular bone embedded into the girl's forehead.

"Do you have the toxicology report?" Henry nodded and turned towards his desk. As he had his back to me, I plucked the piece from the wound, dragged off the glove with it still inside and then stuffing it in my pants pocket. I threw away the other vinyl.

"It was negative on… everything. A minimum amount of alcohol was still in her system but not enough to buzz a sixteen-year-old."

"Still?"

"Yeah. She was killed at least four days ago."

"And she's so well preserved?"

"I can't explain it. She was found in the woods." My brows scrunched up in confusion.

"But the animals would have–"

"I saw the sight myself, there were no animals. Not even birds."

"Oy…" I exclaimed with a deep sigh.

"What?"

"That does sound like vampires." Henry raised the sheet and shoved her back inside.

"You're sure it's not?"

"Not at all. But it's still too messy for me to be sure. I'll be in touch."

"Don't harass Andrei on your way out."

"Who?"

"The guard." I smirked wildly and Henry shook his head.

"Don't."

"Who said I was going to do anything?"

"That smirk on your face." I had him pinned to the wall within two second. He was taken by surprise but he didn't flinch this time.

"Think you know me?" I cocked my head to the side, wetting my lips.

"I know I know you."

"Oh you do, do you?" I placed my lips against him, putting more pressure as he started moving his. His tongue pushed against mine, slowly flickered it. I moaned and when he slowly easy over my teeth, I pulled away and disappeared out the room, leaving the door slightly open.

It was still raining outside but it had slowed down to a heavy drizzle. I ran all the way to the crime scene. I looked through the report when he flipped it through to the toxicology paper.

The ground was soaked and worked like quicksand in various places. I was knee-deep in mud by the time I reached my destination. With the rain, it was harder to pinpoint the right location but I scanned the ground and caught a final whiff of death lingered on the grass and leaves.

There was no sound. No cars. No humans. No birds. Not even a fucking mouse. I raised my head high and inhaled. Moisture and pollution. And a small amount of something familiar but I couldn't quite place it.

I broke into a vacant apartment and went straight for the shower. I stood under the streaming water for over thirty minutes. I shook my hair till almost dry before pulling on my clothes and getting out through the window.

The roof gleamed with wetness in the moonlight as I moved across one after another. I started running, moving as if I was flying, and jumped from stone to stone, landing as graceful as a second ago.

When I finally pounced the ageing wooden roof, I hung from the side for a second to test the ground before crawling up and getting into the bell tower. The iron bell had long ago rusted away and remaining was a cobweb infested rope and a big hole in the middle of the eight by eight feet room. I jumped through the hole and landed with bended knees on the second landing, overlooking the dead altar. I got back into my appointed room and pulled up the BBC webpage.

I put on the live fee, news twenty-four/seven, while Googling animals attacks in central Europe. Excluding the three Facebook pages – which I have no idea how they could be related – the first link was to a Wikipedia page entitled; _Wolf attacks on humans_.

It couldn't be.

But there was nothing with a beating heart within five miles of the crime scene. I retrieved the bone from my pocket and flipped it into my hand. As soon as it reached my palm, I recognized it for what it was. A chipped tooth. The tip felt sharp against my thumb and the top was coarse at the breaking point.

Putting the tooth next to the computer, I got up and fell back against the mattress, interested but not enough to linger in my thoughts. Daytime was coming, making my senses heighten and my ears to pick up the tiniest sound more than two-hundred yards away. I need to hunt tonight.

Trying to slip through existence for the night, I was well and prepared to hit the bars and get the first guy who paid any attention to me. Sadly – or not – I never made it there. As I crossed a bridge, quiet sobbing had me stopping.

Jumping down onto the ground, I saw the shape of a small human huddling into the concrete, as if she could disappear into it. To her left was a small dark object I determined to be a backpack.

"Are you okay?" I asked while nearing the child. She couldn't have been any older than fourteen or fifteen.

"Leave me alone," she sobbed and brought her knees closer. I know I shouldn't have. I should have turned around and walked away.

"What's wrong?" My voice; soft and sympathetic, while I slid down the side of the bridge, watching the drizzle form into large raindrops. The girl shied away from me, her natural instincts kicking in. "You can talk to me." That made her cry harder.

"Where do you live? Let me take you home." Her small shoulders shook with the effort of speaking.

"I can't go home." Her voice was weak and her words broke in several places.

"You can't stay out here. It's freezing." She continued to shake and when she took a breath, I heard it. Fluid in her lunges. Her body temperature, though diminished due to the drastic weather, was still too high to be normal. Perspiration covered her neck and scalp.

"It hurts," she whispered and then had a fit of coughs. My head fell back against the concrete as I thought. Active tuberculosis – I had read – could be fatal. Her frame was so small and I doubted she'd had anything to eat in at least two days. Her body would not make the night.

This is how I rationalized myself. I wasn't always the monster some sought me out to be. But when that girl coughed the next time, she coughed up blood. I smelled it as soon as I hit her airway.

I can always console myself in that she never felt a thing. She didn't even notice I had yanked her from her spot and shoved my teeth into her delicate skin. When she went limp, I had a moment of regret. I tried to tell myself she could have made it to a hospital but it was impossible. I could taste death in her blood. I'm amazed she survived this long outside.

To dump her into a hole in the woods seemed somehow disrespectful. I didn't recognize these feeling one bit and I did not like them. Nevertheless, I brought her back to the church and dug up and old grave. Opening the moldy coffin, I shoved the girl inside – along with her backpack.

After covering the grave I went back to town to find someone who could make me forget what I'd just done.

I dragged the man outside and let him do anything and everything he wanted to me. But when I'd grabbed to kiss him, I'd pulled too hard and his neck snapped. He fell to the ground in a heap of dead weight. I frowned and let him lie there, in full view of anyone who wanted to see him. I didn't care.

* * *

_**AN: Kind of depressing, I know. But I've always figured vampires to be bipolar. They have mood swings just as we do but so much more powerful than what we could ever imagine. **_


	5. Experience

"_Experience is the name everyone gives to their mistakes"_

How do the humans do it? Living every day the same. Wake up, maybe take a shower, eat breakfast, and then leave for school or work or kindergarten. Then come home have dinner and when it's time for bed, you can always trust the "rebellious" teen(s) to sneak out, only to return five to ten minutes later after having a highly overrated PG-13 make-out session with their sexually repressed boyfriend who is literally five days away from calling a hooker to – and I quote – "get it over with".

It's pathetic. The meaningless rituals they all follow. Don't they realize that anything they do won't amount to anything, really? Most of them could die today and none would remember them. They would be missed and mourned – and that should be enough – but in the long run, nobody will remember them.

But I guess I'm in the same predicament. Though I might have it worse. I know I'll never be mourned. I doubt I'll even be missed. Life is too fucked up sometimes and too depressing to think about for too long.

I sighed deeply and cocked my head to the side out of boredom.

Another one went by. He was in a hurry. Couldn't have been older than fifteen. He dropped a book into a deep puddle of dirty water and groaned, mumbling something about this being the shittiest day out of them all. How original. I scoffed and sighed once more.

A welcoming sign from my computer, telling me I'd gotten an instant message. I pulled the lid up and stared at the single line from Henry.

'**Gotten anything get?' **

I rolled my eyes and typed a response.

'**I said I'd call.' **

It took a few minutes for him to get back at me.

'**I'm still hoping for you to tell me you have company.' **

'**I told you I didn't. And besides, what's the big deal?' **

'**Maybe not everyone would like to have a killer on the loose.' **

'**Excuse me?' **

'**Don't be like that. You know what I mean.' **

'**Whatever. Either way, I'm leaving.' **

'**Where to this time?' **

'**Sorry to break it to you but I'm not leaving town just yet. There's bound to be a party around here somewhere. I'm gonna find me some dinner.' **

'**And I'll pretend I didn't just read that.' **

'**You do that.' **

I signed off and shut the lid, still grinning from the expression on his face which I could so clearly visualize in my mind.

It was a good two weeks before Halloween – my ultimately favorite time of the year. Not just of the fact that I was not the only freak out there – besides "my lot". But the fact that I didn't have to use contacts anymore. I could walk outside freely with my beaming red irises. Not that many were open enough to accept my albino explanation.

Some had started early with decorations and costumes. Which made half the work for me. Anyone screaming out loud close to Halloween would never be taken seriously.

I walked out – for a change – and went to the place where the loudest music was coming from. The irony was killing me – a cemetery. Everywhere I turned, drunken teenagers would either be hanging over a gravestone, puking his or hers guts out or feeling each other up while they think nobody was looking. Here's a newsflash; someone's always watching.

I moved my way through the grounds, watching each individual closely. They were all laughing and having fun. Too much fun. I wanted to ruin it. But, alas, the shit that is this afterlife would not allow me to do such a thing. I'd be burning before the sun rose. Fucking fabulous.

_Let it rock_ echoed all over, coming from two enormous speakers on top the trunk of a truck. I was looking for an outsider. Someone nobody would miss directly but would probably come looking for later. I was feeling greedy.

"Voi fi înapoi." I stopped walking and turned my head automatically towards the voice. I'd heard that voice before. The boy started away from his girlfriend. She grabbed his arm with a whiny look on her face.

"Unde te duci?" she asked – her voice is as whiny as her face, by the way – and it made me want to scratch my nails against a blackboard just to get it out of my head.

"Am spus că voi fi imediat înapoi." I said I'll be right back

Don't people know you're never supposed to say; I'll be right back? The guy untangled himself long enough to move away from the party to a more secluded section – with me following. I waited for him to find a place, unzip his pants and go on with it. I hid behind a large memorial of a crying angel looking down at the ground.

When I heard the zipper go back up, I revealed myself; smirking and leaning against angel. Well look at that, an angel and a devil, all in one place. I felt like laughing.

"Hi! Oh, I'm so sorry." He looked me up and down and it seemed like his date was momentarily forgotten.

"That's okay," he said, his accent heavy.

"Have you seen a German Shepherd around?" The guy looked at me like I was crazy. I stepped closer. This is when his natural survival instincts clicked and his eyes met mine. I was instantly before him, closing my right hand over his mouth as he tried to scream.

"Ah, ah, ah," I chastised and released him, making sure he wouldn't yell. He didn't. "You know what I am?" He nodded but couldn't speak. "I've seen you before. You and your family have some really interesting conversations late at night." He fumbled with something behind his back and I was about to look when his hand comes forward with – and I swear it's true because it's just too fucking ridiculous to make up – a stake. An actual wooden stake. I was going to stop him but thought he should see it for himself and let the guy smash the thing into the center of my chest.

When the wood splintered into a million tiny pieces, I looked down and frowned at the tear he'd made in one of my new favorite shirts. I looked back up.

"That wasn't very nice." He started to sweat heavily and I grabbed his neck, smashing him into the gravestone behind. I came in close, inhaled his scent and ran the tip of tongue along his vein, feeling the pressure, tasting the deliciousness.

"Mmm… you taste so good," I whispered into his ear. I nibbled on the lobe before grabbing his wrist while still holding on to his neck. I ran my hand over the vein and inhaled. The blood was driving me insane. I wanted it. I needed it. And yet I had the control to refuse. If I had to, I could be able to walk away without spilling a drop. But I wouldn't be walking away. The party was still going strong and nobody was missing loverboy. Not yet.

I met his gaze and watched the wide-eyed fear. I grinned at him, showing my teeth and shoving them slowly into his flesh. I moved my hand to his mouth, but still held on as hard as before.

He struggled. But it wasn't enough. It never is. I sucked until there was nothing left before breaking from him with a gash and licked my lips clean. I licked the rest from the outside of his hand and forearm and then dropped him to the ground.

"Adrian?"

_Perfect._

The girl was already overflowing with the scent and I couldn't help myself. I grabbed a hold of her and chugged my teeth into the crook of her neck. Oh, that overly sweet liquid. It just tasted so good. I wanted to never stop. I wanted the blood to constantly gush down my throat.

I don't know what set it off. One second, I was indulging in the steady but draining flow of nectar and the next, I heard someone approach. Only it wasn't a human. I ripped myself away from the girl, very conscious that I hadn't emptied her completely. The steps were too heavy to be human.

The blood started pumping again. Soon she would be thrashing in pain. I wrung her neck and her head froze in an unnatural pose.

With the crack of bones, the footsteps stopped. I'd determined that it wasn't at the party. Not even on the grounds. But he, she, it – whatever – was close. I dropped the girl and my muscles instinctively tightened. That's when I smelled it. The same vile stench which was on the corpse at the morgue.

Steady pumping of blood again, this time, right behind me. I didn't think about it but leaped to my right, crashing down to the side of another stone figure. I whipped my head around, watching a figure push away from a crouching position and start towards me. It was huge. At least four times the size of me.

I moved out of its way, watching in amazement at the shape. It was a wolf. Or it looked like a wolf. It was way bigger than any animal I've ever seen and that includes a killer whale at Sea World.

It snarled when I moved and it's eyes pierced mine now. I drew my lips back and snarled and ran away. I was no coward. But a shitload of people watching this little _ordeal_ would not be a good idea.

I could hear it coming behind me. It was fast. But I was faster. As soon as the road stopped and the forest came into view, I jumped up to the top of the closest tree. The next second, the tree shook with impact and I pushed to the next, and the one after that. I moved so fast I wasn't entirely sure I actually touched anything solid.

After growing tired of this game, I leaped into the air, head first down. I righted myself when closing on the ground. Both my feet and one knee sank half-an-inch into the wet soil. I stayed in a crouch and stayed so until I heard the figure coming up behind me. I jumped straight up, did a back flip and landed solid on my feet once more. I could see it clearer now. Teeth bared and fur standing on end. He made a sharp U-turn and as I moved out of the way, I kicked against his right back leg – it howled.

The next movements happened in slow motion. I snarled and bared my teeth, feeling my primal instincts kick in. It came back, mouth wide open, jumping at my face. I hunched down and punched my fist up into its chest as it passed over me. I both heard and felt bones crack. Before he'd jumped completely across me, I grabbed the fur from underneath, kicked my legs off the ground and shifted up onto its back.

Kicking and screaming, I shoved my hand into the right shoulder, my fingers digging into the flesh; drawing blood. Lots of blood. Yanking my hand away, thick wools of tissue came with. I threw the pieces to the side and kicked up my feet, crouching on the back. When it arched, I jumped backwards, did a flip and landed on my feet. I fisted my hand and brought it down to the heel of his already healed back leg. Bones cracked.

I was then shot sideways into a tree, the bark breaking and falling over. A growl emanated from deep down my throat. I shot away and my shoulder knocked into the figures stomach. He yanked his palm towards me but this time I wasn't fast enough to move away. I was knocked back into a different tree, falling to the ground with a thud. The sliver of which it's nail caught on my arm felt like a fire slowly seeping through my skin. I tried to ignore it the best I could. Having the breath knocked out of me seemed a welcoming act.

The figure came, teeth bared, mouth opening. I stayed where I was, bracing for impact. One fifth of a second before his teeth pierced me and could rip my head off; I yanked my hands up and grabbed it's head, keeping the teeth away.

It was so close. The vile breath washed over me, nose almost touching my forehead. If I could sweat, I'd be dripping with the effort of keeping it away.

When I managed to receive some leverage, I pushed the beast away an inch and then snapped his head to the side. Bones cracked but it wouldn't give up. I gripped tighter, my hands pushing into its teeth. It actually hurt. I think I whimpered but I wasn't sure.

One more snap to the left and it went down.

I fell back against the tree, panting for air I did not need. I wasn't tired, and yet I couldn't get up. Its head was still in my lap and I suddenly felt revolted at even touching it. I put my foot against a root and slid away, falling back on the ground to breathe out in relief.

After a minute of two, I got up and the sight before me was like a train wreck. You want to look away but can't.

Before me lay a man in his twenties. He had fair skin with thick dark hair. Entirely nude, he was laying with his front down. Two bones were sticking out of his neck and a huge piece of flesh was missing from his right shoulder.

I didn't even think about it. I didn't panic, but simply took a deep breath to clear my head. I then reached into my pocket to retrieve my phone which had been banged up pretty bad. I needed to get a new one.

"_Hello?" _

"It's done."

"_What is?" _

"The killer you were so scared of."

"_I wasn't – you know who did it?" _

I looked down at the excruciatingly slowly rotting corpse. Something in his voice made me slightly… on edge. "I sure do."

"_Anyone you knew?" _

"In a way. Look, it's been taken care off. You're free to go back, pretending the monsters beneath the stairs aren't real."

I hung up with a huff and chugged the phone at the nearest tree. It broke into a thousand pieces, scattering all over the ground. I looked down at the body with a cocked head before sinking down to a crouch.

I wasn't sure how the humans would take this. An arm had gone halfway through his ribcage in an attempt to rip his heart out. I didn't know much about the human capacity but I was pretty sure – even with the anabolic steroid and pronounced adrenaline rushes – they couldn't manage something like this. And why did I have to give a shit?

But it didn't matter. I knew what lay at my feet. And I knew I had to get out of here. They always travel in packs. At the very least in pairs. One I could handle. Two were not… impossible. But a whole pack of five plus? That was impossible for just one vampire.

Something else was pressing me. Reality was that this figure was alone tonight. Meaning he purposefully left his lot. Now why would he do that? Seems foolish to me. Merely one of them can't take me down. Yet he was arrogant enough to believe otherwise. My gaze turned towards the hospital. This time I snarled.

He was where I knew I would find him. Of course he was. He knew me enough not to break from his normal habits. Fucking reversed psychology. And I who have been nothing but helpful. This is the thanks I get?

He didn't hear me come in. Of course not. I could be all but invisible if I so choose. When he turned around, there I was. He jumped and held a hand over his heart; I glanced at it before returning to his face.

"Christ, you scared me," he panted.

"Sorry."

"What are you doing here?" I tried not to clench my hand in fury.

"I'm leaving. I wanted to say goodbye."

"You're leaving?" I nodded, not missing the relived tone. "Where are you going?"

"Back home. I haven't been in ages."

"I'll see you next time, then." He turned around but I was already there. His hands started to shake. My eyes narrowed.

"Why did you show me the body?" He stood frozen for a few minutes.

"What do you mean?"

"I know that you knew exactly what killed that human." He did a nervous laugh.

"Of course I didn't."

"Sure you did. I bet he even came here himself. But what I don't understand is why. Just to mess with me? Or was it to distract me so that he would have no problem taking me out?" Henry took a step back.

"You've got it all wrong." He turned again but I was already there. "I didn't- I wasn't- You can't just show up anywhere you want and expect people to be fine with it." His voice grew but it was still as shaky.

"Listen," I said, "I can do whatever the hell I want and nobody, especially _you,_ is going to tell me otherwise."

"Someone will know. Eventually."

"I don't doubt that. But what are they going to do? Did you tell anyone else?"

"No! No, I swear, I didn't. He sought me out. I never actually told him anything." I searched his eyes. "You have to believe me." I raised my hand and touched his face with trained gentleness, looking sympathetic.

"I do believe you. And that's why I'm really sorry about this." I shoved my other hand into his chest and grabbed his heart; squeezing it into pulp. His gasp of surprise quickly died, along with him. I looked away from the falling corpse and went to clean up before walking out the door.

"Hey you!" He should have stayed seated. Idiot.

I stopped and turned and before he knew it, I literally ripped his chest open and watched the blood fall onto the ground. His knees gave out first before his whole body fell backwards. The smell was everywhere. I started to shake. Keeping myself away from it went against everything I have been taught. There was still blood on my hands. I brought one up and inhaled.

The scent was divine. My eyes instantly closed and I felt my tongue press against my middle finger, taking every drop of blood and then engulfing the finger. That's when I stopped myself. I would not be an animal. Not tonight. I opened my eyes and dropped my hand before rushing out of there, leaving the door hanging from it hinges.

I needed to leave. People were already starting to notice. I've been in Romania for far too long. How much longer till they won't believe the animal attack stories? It's a different era. They might not believe a vampire's on the loose but they will definitely believe a serial killer is. I don't have time for shit like that.

And as I race back to the church to pack up, something becomes clear to me. I keep finding myself running all the time when I technically don't have to. The worst that could happen would be that I die. It's not like I haven't had my morbid ideas of how I am to leave this afterlife.

All I know is that I can't live like this anymore. And that's when I knew where I had to go.

The plane shook with impact and the tires screeched as we went down. I grabbed my bag from the overhead compartment, slung it over my shoulder and waited as the humans exited. My contacts had dissolved a while ago so I kept my head down and focused on anything and everything on the ground.

When I managed to get outside, I looked around for a cab. It wasn't hard to find. They littered around the airport like cockroaches' in a New York apartment. I shut the door and named my destination.

"Are you from Boston?" I watched from the corner of my eye how he glanced back in the rearview mirror.

"Salem… kind of," I replied.

"Are you going into town for the festival?"

"Festival?" They still do that?

"Yeah. Every time on Halloween there's a festival."

"I know about the festival." My words were final and the cabbie glanced at me in the rearview mirror before turning his attention back at the road. I, myself, glanced out the window, watching the clouds gather in the distance which would be too far for the human eyes to see.

"That will be 35,56." The cabbie's deep voice brought me back to the present. Leaning forward, I turned my head to the side, letting him see my eyes. He flinched back and I smiled.

"I have a different set of payment in mind." I chuckled as he tried to unlock the door. But I was faster; having straddled him in one second and then I sank my teeth into him the next. He tensed before relaxing.

I came away with a gasp. Mmmm…. He tasted good. He took take of himself. Good boy. Licking my lips and climbing out, I retrieved my bag from the trunk before walking away.

It's easy to find abandoned buildings in Boston. After having walked for only five minutes, I came across a white two-story house which faintly reminded me of Michael Myers house in Halloween. The one from 1978. The door had been busted open one too many times and hung in splinters from the hinges. The windows had been replaced with simple plywood plates and the upstairs had just been broken.

I literally dumped my stuff on the floor and left, wanting not to spend any more time in this state than I had to.

It was just after eleven at night. People were busting out of their apartments and houses for the latest club or whatever. The never-ending ritual must bore them sometime, right? I ignored them all with one purpose in mind.

The store's alarm had a millisecond to ring before I ripped it out of the wall. It groaned and died in my hand. I threw the first grade technology on the fake beige hardwood floor and grabbed items at random. I yanked a simple black tank top over my head. My old shirt I threw in the bin.

Ripping off my pants felt like shedding a second skin. And pulling on a new pair of skinny navy denim completed the process. I zipped and buttoned before looking myself up and down in the full-length mirror. Since it was at the end of October, I couldn't get by with only wearing the tank and jeans.

After zipping up a pair of black high ankle boots with three large buttons on the sides, I pulled the pleather jacket up my arms and left the store through the front door. No one looked too closely when I got out of a dark and seemingly closed store. That's what's good in America. No one really gives a shit if it isn't related to them.

I start down the street, determined to merely walk all the way, not stop for anything. But coming down a dark and vacant street in Charlestown I find myself stopping in the middle of the street. A scent – not too unlike my own – circles around me. Its close and when I strain my ears to listen, I can hear it breathe.

There is no point in starting again. It knows I'm here. It knows I know about it and it obviously wants something since it's easy for us to stay hidden, even when crossing the path of another immortal.

In the next second I feel it standing right behind me. I wait another moment before turning around. But I know, since first taking a whiff off the scent, just who it is. I glare at the alabaster figure with the brightest hair you'd ever imagine.

Riley.

One of my more… _successful_ "experiences". But I eventually grew bored; as I always do. Though he proved a far greater ally than a threat and so I let him remain alive. Or dead. Or however you see fit to elucidate this afterlife.

"Well, well… what have we here?" I flashed forward and smirked.

"Hi, B."

"So serious. It's been- what? A decade? I don't even get a kiss hello? I'm hurt," I said with feigned sadness and a hand to my dead heart. Riley smiled quickly.

"I'm sorry. How are you, Bella?" I rolled my eyes and scoffed.

"You're a terrible actor. And I'm fine. What are you doing here?" He avoided eye contact and I didn't miss the swallowing. "Why so nervous, Riley?"

"I'm just passing through."

"Why would you be nervous about that?"

"I'm not nervous." I narrowed my eyes.

"You know… I was going to let this go but since you're so adamant at keeping something from me… I'll only ask once more nicely." Riley sighed and took a step back.

"I was passing through Ontario…"

"Go on."

"When I ran into some old friends in the Thunder Bay area."

"Friends you say? Whoever are you talking about?"

"Carlisle." Cocking my head to the side, I tried not to let any emotions show on my face.

"They're not your friends." I narrowed my eyes. "How do you even know about them?"

"I have my ways."

"You do, do you?" But I decided to let it go, for now.

"Yep. They weren't too happy to see me."

"I don't doubt that." I thought about it for a second. Canada? It was close enough to a larger city but far away nobody would notice their habits. I almost laughed. Still playing high school kids. How very predictable of them. Would that story ever end?

"It was good to see you Riley. But I must be off now." He flashed a small smile, not in the least pleased but pretences had to be made. I grabbed his arm tightly and chugged him towards me, whispering softly into his ear.

"Remember. I gave you life. I can take it right back if I so choose. I'll always find you." I gently kissed just below his ear and then rushed down the silent street.

* * *

_**Translations:  
**_

I'll be back - **Voi fi înapoi**

Where are you going? **– Unde te duci**

I said I'll be right back - **Am spus că voi fi imediat înapoi**


	6. Illusion is the first of all pleasures

"_Illusion is the first of all pleasures"_

When I was sixteen my father moved us from Dorchester to Salem. If you knew the history you would understand better but for now, this is the only truth. But to be fair, I don't remember the place of my childhood so much. Except for the occasional times my accent slips out – which I've tried to bury for centuries – I have no ties to that neighborhood.

The only home that I know of now is Salem and I don't actually remember it. Or I thought I did until I stepped back inside the town. But once four-hundred years pass, I shouldn't put it behind society to change. However, I'm not sure it's a memory or something I think I remember, but the streets look the same. Paved with sidewalks now, I think I can almost remember the dirt beneath my feet.

The moon is high, illuminating the already lit street. The heels of my shoes echo through the night as the wind picks up whisks of my hair. By the time I got to the more recognizable parts of town, I slowed down.

There was a graveyard.

Isn't there always?

I moved with inhuman speed halfway across the lot and came to a crashing halt by a large headstone; blackened and covered in moss. The ground had also given in, making the stone lean the slightest against a larger headstone behind. The letters and numbers had all but vanished but I still knew what it read. I crouched down and cocked my head to the side.

Chief Justice of the Supreme Court Charles William Stoughton

1631 – 1701

Of course my father's grave would still be here. The bastard even has a whole town named after him. That'd be something he would have loved. If there's one thing I remember about my father, it's that he was not one to shy away from attention. He would have loved the 21st century with YouTube, Facebook and Twitter. He would have relished in the everlasting glory that was his own egotism.

I stood up from the grave with a grimace. I was suddenly very happy the bastard croaked a long time ago. Of course biology made it impossible for him to live much longer but the thought is still comforting.

The wind picked up; whooshing by at an alarming rate. I go to sit down on a bench, waiting it out. I don't have the mental energy to go back to Boston only to have to return the same second. The sun wouldn't be out today. I'd have minimum of twelve hours to do as I pleased and look through any and all kinds of archives I wanted.

I sit on that bench for exactly six hours and fifty-four minutes before I spot the first human driving off in a minivan. I turn my head away from the van and wait an additional thirty-six minutes before getting up to circulate. People were waking up, doors were opening. Not that I needed the local museum to be open but I did need the assistance. I didn't want to stay for any longer than I had to.

Just after nine, I'm the first to enter the old town house. A deep sense of déjà-vu creeps inside me.

I am met by a large dark chocolate stairway. A red carpet with golden embroideries on the outside encircles the stairs and crosses the floor of the foyer. The downstairs is only for show. Always has been. To my left is the drawing room. The larger room downstairs but only enough to hold just over twenty people and even then its crowded. Then there is the dining room to my right. A smaller and much less impressive room but not as cluttered.

I skip the library, kitchen and small bathroom and instead rush up a flight of steps. The whole house has the same dark chocolate wood in every room. As I come to the first landing, green wallpaper with white subtle flower patterns greets me.

I stand before a wall of photographs. All of which are in various shades of grey and yellow. Only those most influential to the town could count on being placed here. Many had been torn down but not my father. His white and grey sketch – which does hold a significant resembling as I remember him – hangs proudly in the center of the wall. I frown in disgust and move upstairs. There are only bedrooms on the second landing.

Walking through the archway, I step into the ballroom. Or it's supposed to be a ballroom. Now it would look more like a common room than anything. Not to me. In a pathetic way, I can actually remember – for just one fleeting moment – what the town meeting looked like one autumn.

It was the first one I was allowed to attend. In the fall of 1691 I had just turned eighteen. The early autumn was hot and clammy. I remember how my dress stuck to me like a second skin. I remember feeling flustered and wanting nothing more than to go home. But I wouldn't dare disobey my father and when he said it was time to go then I could leave. Not a minute before and definitely not a minute later.

The memory fades and it's like a fog now. I see movements but I can't make out who they belong to. I try to remember more but my forehead feels like it's on fire and I sigh in defeat.

I move slowly around the room, walking as close to the wall as I can. I come to a long line of hard wood benches – now with red satin cushions – and sit down. My head falls back against the wall and I cock it to the side, trying to remember anything else. But I only have one more memory of this room. One I've never been able to let go. One that will always stick with me.

It's when I met him.

In late May the following year, a small gathering took place. I don't remember who attended. I don't remember what I wore. I only remember him. In perfect clarity he looked like… I don't even have words, even as an immortal. He was in all thought; perfect. Alabaster skin which looked just as smooth as marble. His hair; a thick mane of dark blonde curls, tied together at the nape of his neck in a delicate ponytail.

He came from London, he said; speaking with a deep accident which I couldn't help but swoon over. He made me feel alive. He made my heart beat faster and faster just by being the same room. Even his name was handsome; Thomas. It was back then. Give me a break; I was only human.

My father did not approve of Thomas being on his town. He didn't approve of much. For some reason, and I'm still not sure why, Thomas found me interesting. At the time; I relished in his spotlight. Every girl in town was jealous of me. Everyone was desperate for his attention and he only gave it to me. I was shy in most circumstances but knowing that he wanted me and only me... I didn't mind rubbing all their noses in it.

I still – to this day – remember the first moment I laid eyes on him. He was standing across the room from where I was sitting now. He spoke with such grace and presence; I thought I was seeing things. And don't get me starting on how he walked. I couldn't comprehend how a human – a man, no less – could walk with the grace of a cat.

I was standing with friends – at least that's how I think I remember it – when all of the sudden, he looked at me. We had already been staring at him for the better part of ten minutes at this point. We, meaning me and a few of my friends. At least I think they were my friends. I cannot see them in memories but I know I socialized with a group on several occasions. When he met my gaze I blushed and looked away, hiding my face. Even as he stood so far away, I knew I wasn't mistaken when I had seen his burgundy irises.

"Well hello!"

I jumped up and stared at the small woman to my left. She was probably mid-forties. Light blonde hair, small frame with too-big glasses for her face. I nodded once as I didn't quite trust my voice at this time.

"I must have missed you at the entrance." I smiled but it faded quickly.

"I should go." I made my way down the first set of stairs.

"Nonsense!" The woman exclaimed and walked down beside me. "Would you like a tour? You must be new in town. I haven't seen you before." I almost laughed.

"Actually I used to live here." Why did I say that? Was it really necessary for this woman to know even one aspect of my past?

"Oh," she exhaled with a laugh, trying to keep up with my fast pace.

"Ages ago, though."

"Then you must already be familiar with the estate." I nodded though it wasn't technically a question.

I hesitated when coming down to the second landing and having to watch my father stare me down. Even after three hundred years, he can still make me break a sweat. Figuratively.

"Ah yes. Charles Stoughton. Did you know he was the Judge at the time of the Witch Trials?"

"Really?" I feigned interest while continuing to look at his picture.

"Yes," the woman replied with enthusiasm. "His parents were among the founders of Dorchester, you know."

"That's impressive."

"Sad story though."

"Why?"

"His daughter disappeared." That caught my attention. I turned my head. The woman looked absolutely vibrant that I was showing any interest. She mustn't get many visitors. "Wife died in childbirth and then his daughter disappears. Must have been awful."

"I think he pulled through," I responded in a callous tone and turned back to the picture.

"Well yes. But the story is a great mystery in this town. This was right in the midst of the Trials and everyone was on edge. You couldn't make a good loaf of bread before being accused of witchcraft."

"What do you mean mystery? They never found her?" I found it exceedingly amusing to mock the woman with trivial questions to which I already knew most answers.

"No…" she dragged out for dramatic effect. "The story says – and don't take this as facts because if it's not on record it's just rumors. But the story says the daughter had been in contact with an alleged witch. The accused witch – and eventually killed – was about the same age as his daughter. Now we see it as a friendship. But back then they were looked at as witch partners or however you want to phrase it."

"Did you say killed?"

"Yes. There was an incident. Report says the witch acted violently and officers had to shoot her."

"What does that have to do with his daughter going missing?"

"It's not in any books but if you believe an old nut like me – who get her stories from old family members; the two officers weren't at the witch's house because she was acting violently. They were there to kill her. I think the Judge wasn't too thrilled about his only daughter associating with a witch. Anyhow… There were three causalities' logged that night. Victoria, whom we aren't sure of her real last name, and two officers."

The second she said her name, a face flashed in my mind of a tall woman with wild curly red hair and a gentle smile. I swallowed and tried to keep up with the woman as she was speaking rather rapidly.

"And again… it's never been reported but it's been said that the Stoughton daughter was in the house when the officers came bursting in." I hear distant shot fires and look away before they disappear and I heard the woman had stopped talking. She's watching me with curious interest. I smile weakly.

"Wouldn't she have been reported dead then?"

"They never found a body." I nodded though not really hearing. "Are you alright? You look pale."

"I'm fine. I haven't had breakfast yet." She nodded before going back to her story.

"If you ask me, which not many do but… I think the Judge had a hit made. I think he knew his daughter was in that house and he sent the officers there regardless." I swallowed again.

"Why would he do that?"

"There had been a string of deaths in the town during the summer. They were blaming witches – of course. I think the fact that his own daughter might be to blame – a witch herself – was too much for the judge." I nodded again, not listening anymore.

I wasn't surprised. I already knew my father hated me. He wanted a son. Everyone did back then. I had taken his wife away from him. The fact that I haven't uttered Stoughton alongside my name since I was human says for something. In all standards; I'm Bella now. Not… _Isabella_. Oh how I loathed the use of my first name. I do remember that. It was worse when people would refer to me as Isabella-Marie. As if it was my first and only name.

"…but we know it's dangerous going into the woods alone… of course animals could get to you… not invisible… plague was also a factor…"

But my own story, I wasn't too interested in. I knew the basics. The rest I could figure out on my own.

"You say there had been deaths in the town."

"Yes?"

"Any theories about that?"

"Like I said. Animal attacks. They are more common than you'd think." Oh I know they are. "And then there was the plague. But mostly animal attacks, I think. They write how people were found massacred. Some completely torn apart. Very nasty."

"And they only blamed that one witch?"

"Oh no there were many. Some were cleared with eyewitnesses. Some were brought to trial but with a lack of evidence. Victoria was one of the few who couldn't account for her time, I believe. The trials are all on record, you see. Well, most of them. Not everything can be preserved. But after Victoria was killed, the killings stopped."

"Where are these records, exactly?"

"We have some here. The old courthouse was destroyed in a fire – along with a few records. Some are – of course – still at the Stoughton house." I stopped my train of thought.

"The house is still here?" The woman nodded her head vigorously though looking at me curiously.

"Since it was built in sixteen-seventy-three. Some remodeling has occurred – of course. The foundation was a bit rough and there has been needed new paint but the rooms and most of the personal belongings are still there. Some have been sent to…" and I tuned her out for the next sentences.

"Excuse me?" I interrupt. "But is there a registration list on everyone who lived in town at that time?"

"Registration?"

"I don't know. Log? Something they wrote in to know who was living here. Small town, after all."

"Yes it is. You know. I think there is some sort of documentation. It could be at the new courthouse. It's the building right across the street. Why would you want to know who lived there then?" I shrugged.

"Interesting." She didn't buy it. "I'm doing a paper on the witch hunt, actually." This perked her eyes up. "It's not due till December but…"

"Oh I understand. If you want, I can make a call, see if they have such documents?"

"That would be great. Thank you." The woman smiled greatly while walking down the steps. I followed without another glance at my father's portrait. I was always pleasantly surprised whenever I ran into a human who was voluntarily helpful. While it was always amusing and fun to do things my way and make them tell me, I still liked the idea that they would tell a vampire anything she wanted to hear.

We went through the foyer and drawing room before she took a seat behind a simple maple desk in the library.

The woman picked up a cordless phone and dialed as I looked about the room. One entire wall was covered in bookshelves with fragile glass doors for cover. I gently opened the door and took out an edition.

'_The count of Monte Cristo'_

Odd edition to have though I admired whoever placed it here had good taste. I flipped through a few pages and read a couple of lines. The translation could use a lot of improvement. It's never the same when not in the original text.

"You're in luck." I closed the book, placed it back and closed the door, all before the woman had time to see me do it. "I spoke to the courthouse and it looks like there might be some form of documentation over who lived here between the year of 1690 and 1695." She led me out the room as she spoke. "Though I wouldn't count on the names being completely accurate and that most people probably weren't bothered due to social and financial status."

"Thank you," I said while lingering in the foyer, watching the wood and how it shapes itself across the ceiling.

"You're welcome dear. Is there anything else?"

"Actually there is. Do you know the name of Charles Stoughton's wife?"

"Yes – of course. Renee. Renee Swan."

The new courthouse looked more like a church than anything. Though, without the ridiculous crucifixes and endless rows of gold and silver – as a pathetic attempt at a sacrificial or praying altar.

In the same shade of red brick as the townhouse, this building had four pillars in front of the entrance. The double doors were the same shade of green as the other but much newer. They'd made an effort in making it as historically correct as possible but I saw each and every flaw they had tried to hide or flaunt.

It was quiet inside. Not what I had expected. The late thirties man sitting behind a huge desk looked up at my approach and held up a finger. I already resented him. He finished doing whatever it was he was doing and motioned for me to follow. I walked with him behind the desk and into a small and dark room.

It was a long corridor, actually, with many metal shelves at one side of the room. At the lower middle of each shelf was a round handle in which to move each shelf when needed to.

"All documents are in folders. Do not mess up the alphabetical system. There are dates and title on every folder as well as dates on the shelves. Call me when you're done," he finished in a bored tone and left the room, closing the door behind him. I rolled my eyes and flashed towards the end of the hall.

I pulled the handle with little effort until it moved away enough for me to get by. I press myself in between and start looking for the right date. I quickly scanned each and every folder until I find one most appropriate. I pulled it out and laid it on a small and positively meaningless work bench, but it had to do at the moment.

The first paper I pull out is a five by seven poster. A familiar script at the very top.

_If a man has put a spell upon another man and it is not justified, he upon whom the spell is laid shall go to the holy river; into the holy river shall he plunge. If the holy river overcome him and he is drowned, the man who put the spell upon him shall take possession of his house. If the holy river declares him innocent and he remains unharmed the man who laid the spell shall be put to death. He that plunged into the river shall take possession of the house of him who laid the spell upon him_.

"Freaks," I muttered and folded the poster into its original state and laid it back in its plastic folder.

I then spent ten minutes sifting through useless documents on how a witch trial went about and how one would know whether an accused was a witch or not. The methods were ridiculous and a mockery towards science.

But then it paid off. I came to Stoughton's records. Sixteen-ninety the estate moved to Salem, from Dorchester. It's then rambled on about what a great man my father had been back in the day. It made me nauseous.

Wife dies in child birth. Yeah, yeah.

Daughter disappears. Okay.

Ah. Here it is.

I pull out a folder of ten pages. I sit down as I look through, observant to read each and every name with meticulousness. I found my father's easily. And then mine. It's weird to see it written down.

_Isabella Marie Stoughton._

But I'm not that person anymore.

I don't recognize another name for four pages except Victoria. I'm still not sure whether what I remember about her is real or if it's because that woman was good at telling supposed fictional stories. But I decide it doesn't matter. Because on the last page, one of the last to sign their name until the log ends at June fifth, sixteen-ninety-two, there he is.

Thomas Bradford.

Having spent so many years together, always referring him to Thomas, I still wasn't sure whether I could trust that it was his real name or if he played me. I placed a gentle fingertip above the ink. It wasn't his handwriting. But I still felt the indentation left from the quill.

Movement from behind the door alerted me. In less than a second, I had put the paper back in the folder, the folder back in the shelf and was at the door just as it opened. I looked at the man curiously as he jumped in fright at seeing me standing so close.

"Are you done already?"

"Yes. Thank you." I stepped away and started walking down the hall, right past a window. I was preoccupied. I didn't think. I just walked and when I heard the man gasp, I turned around to see him trying to shove his right fist into his mouth. Then I saw it.

Tiny miniscule specks of rainbows lit the room like a disco ball. The sun glared me from beyond my reach. I hadn't covered up enough. My hands gleamed like a diamond while my face seemed as that of an angel. Or at least that's what I've been told it looked like. I did say I liked the religious ones the best.

I quickly took one step forwards into the shadows but that damage was already done. The man scrambled away from the desk into the hallway I was just in. I heard him fumbling with the lock, mumbling incoherency through a fit of nerves and tears.

I sighed.

Kill him now or do it later?

If later he might have time to tell someone. Though I would bet he was too scared to even move from his position at the way corner of the room, behind all those shelves. I smirked and stepped to the room.

The door gave way as if it had been open all along. I heard him breathing down the line but decided I wasn't going to have him. Accidents happen, you know. These shelves have a mind of their own, if you believed in horror movies. My whole life has been one. Why stop now?

The heels of my shoes were muffled against the carpet of the floor but I knew he heard me. His heart was beating uncontrollably. It was driving me insane. He had to stop. Venom flowed in my mouth but I swallowed it quickly.

I placed a silent hand on the first handle and when I heard he'd gotten up to see if I was gone, I turned the knob and the shelves came crashing towards the wall.

* * *

**AN: I'm having a lot of fun exploring the plot. ****I've had a lot of inspiration from both Interview with the vampire and the Vampire Diaries and every other vampire movie there is.  
**

**Though it's going to be fun in researching. I can't believe I'm actually looking forward to new ways of killing my characters. Of course most of them haven't been completely introduced yet. But they will in due time. **


	7. Suffering is one very long moment

"_Suffering is one very long moment. We cannot divide it by seasons" _

Humans truly are pathetic. And selfish. And shallow. Not that they can really help it, I suppose. But above all else there is one other thing they will always conquer; they're greedy.

Sitting on the thick metal wire at the highest point of highway 93 where it crossed the massive river, I saw what kind of effect rush hour had on people. There wasn't five seconds peace without another car honking for the queue to move along. It never did and they never learned. They never do. Always desperate to repeat their exact same traces and patterns, thinking this time it will be different.

I shook my head at the sad sight below me and twisted in my spot to lie down, watching the remaining afternoon clouds dissolve to welcome the forthcoming winter night. There was but one small sliver of moon tonight. I watched the silver object with narrowed eyes in wonder. How could such a seemingly small and inconsequential _thing_ be so important?

What microscopic insignificance could an object over 200,000 miles away have? It's scientifically impossible. Though I suppose vampires aren't scientifically possible either. But it's so… _frustrating._ I know all answers. I've gone through the façade countless times. I keep up with modern stories. But I can't understand what makes the fucking moon turn completely healthy people into wolves!

I jerked upright enraged with my nails and fingertips crushing the wire. I pried them away and ran a hand through my hair. It took minutes for me to calm long enough to lie back down and not jump at the first chance have one of the imbeciles on the road.

But my mind soon slipped into much more pressing matters. Going back – to the place which I still can't teach myself not to call home – had been a mistake. To be honest I wasn't sure what I would find. I knew my search wouldn't result there. It was preposterous to even entertain such an idea. But I had at least expected to find… _something_.

I sighed in exasperation. Another profanity screamed across the sea of cars. I tuned them all out. I had no interest in petty human behavior.

My mind wondered a second time, folding away my pathetic finding on what I already knew about the man whom were once my father but no only existed in my mind as the man who impregnated my mother only to hate his offspring for something she could never have foreseen or done anything to change.

My meeting with Riley had me confused. He wasn't completely aware of my first encounter and involvement with the Cullen's. Thinking back, I'd only ever mentioned them once or twice in passing – hardly worthy of giving a second thought. It's obvious he's been talking to someone.

I met Riley in the summer of 1987.

_I was strolling through Liverpool when I came across the premier of The Lost Boys. Up until that point I had never entertained in watching humans play the part of the undead. I'd read it all. Covering the bases from Anne Rice to Bram Stoker and even Charlaine Harris – though the latter wasn't for another few years. No one ever had it right. Before that had bothered me but times are different and there are a lot of believers now. _

_I found myself sitting in the far back, drowning out the excessive pound of the human hearts and focused on the screen long enough to point out each mistake. First of all, we don't fly. Ever. Unless it's first class. _

_Second of all; why does everyone seem to have the same thought about us not having a reflection? What is it that would make us invisible? Mirrors are painted glass. Nothing about that scenario would ever make us not appear in any picture or mirror. _

_And gravity does not grant us any special favors. We fall just as easily as the rest of the sad lot. _

_But on the other hand, I liked the eye effect when they "transformed". That would actually be kind of cool. _

_Correcting as the minutes passed, I gazed upon the crowd, listening in on their hushed conversations they thought no one would hear. I rolled my eyes every time a girl cowered into her companions shoulder for comfort. But there was one boy who stood out. He sat as if transfixed by the moving pictures. _

_I watched him for the remainder of the movie. My eyes hadn't strain once until the end credits rolled and he got up from his sea. I mirrored his movements. _

_I stayed inside, watching how the boy stopped right outside the entrance only to lean against the wall and lit a cigarette. I walked with precise and casual steps outside. I knew he would spot me. I knew he wouldn't be able to take his eyes off of me. The breeze moved past me lazily, bringing warmth with each sweep._

_I stopped at the curb, as if waiting for someone. But he never approached. I looked around nonchalantly, playing the card of uncomfortable girl alone close to midnight. When I glanced his way, the boy immediately looked down. I smirked. So he had been watching. I could see him squirm under my gaze but as I opened my mouth to speak, a horde of people came rushing out of the theater, screaming of how awesome the movie was and about a party at the beach. One of the screamers stopped by the boy and briefly spoke to him. _

_That's when I learned his name. Riley. I liked it. _

_The screamers retrieved after being promised Riley would show up later. He didn't look interested but granted his friend a fist bump before watching him walk to a car as it drove off fast from the curb, leaving skid marks on the pavement. _

_He met my gaze. I shied away and looked expectantly down the road for a ride that would never come. After eight awkward second, he managed to shuffle his feet towards me. He dropped his smoke to the ground and stepped on it. I barely contained a grimace as the nasty smell hit my nostrils. _

"_Are you new?" I raised a brow and cocked to the side. "I mean. I haven't seen you around before." I found his accent charming and I made sure to wet my lips before speaking. _

"_I moved here just last week." _

"_An American." _

"_Guilty." _

"_What brings you to the UK?" _

"_Change of scenery, I suppose." _

"_And the first you do is watch an American movie about vampires." I smirked while nodding. _

"_It wasn't my initial purpose for tonight but it seemed… interesting." Riley glanced around before seeming to pluck up the courage for something. _

"_Are you… I mean… do you believe in all that stuff?" _

"_In vampires? Come on." I wet my lips again. "Do you?" He seemed uncomfortable with the questions, as if I'd asked whether or not he still played with toys. _

"_I don't know." I turned my whole form, genuinely interested in his answer. "I think I'd like to." _

"_Why?" _

"_For a lack of better words… it seems awesome." I didn't blink for a whole minute. _

"_Excuse me?" _

"_Live forever… never grow old or follow any rules. It sounds like a dream." I turned my gaze away, starting to resent the boy. _

"_Sure you could handle it? Killing people… always wanting blood?" He stared at me for a few seconds before answering. _

"_I think I could… if who I killed had been a bad person. And eye for an eye, right?" _

"_Right," I huffed and swallowed the venom now flowing into my mouth. It was a pain to breathe but if I didn't, I couldn't quite stand still. _

"_So are you going?" He asked in a lighter tone. _

"_To what?" _

"_The party?" I was on my way to say no. High school kids were not on my menu. They always attracted the wrong kinds of attention. Too many cared. But I couldn't get myself to say the words. _

"_Only if you are." _

I could see it all happen just like an hour ago. I liked him more back then. Before he was this pathetic cocky asshole. It's not that I don't find the bad-boy image appealing. He wasn't very good at it.

But my unnoticed peace was soon to be disturbed. One line of cars had started to move and drivers gratefully stopped honking long enough to press down on the gas. Though one remained persistent. I turned my head and glanced down, watching how this Ford dude tried to round ever vehicle but finding no clearing.

But then, one car – a green Mazda – was too slow to go and the impatient white Ford gunned the gas and shot forward. But he was too slow to hit the brakes. The next five seconds happened in a slow motion blur that was almost too fast for me to fully understand.

The Ford hit the brakes futility and then turned the car left, crashing into the back of a red minivan. The green Mazda pressed on his car horn but it was to no use. A clueless sedan gunned right into the green Mazda who in return crashed into the white Ford.

Tires screeched.

Metal crumbled.

People screamed.

And blood. Lots of blood.

I felt my pupils dilate. I couldn't yet smell the nectar but I could see it. Splashed across the windshields and slipping onto the dark asphalt of the bridge. The Ford guy was dead. Half his head stuck out the windshield. My eyes shifted from the guy to the red liquid and I had already started to slide down. When I'd gotten just over five feet, I found some sense in myself and stopped, pressing my fingers into the wire once more.

I forced my gaze away and stared over my shoulder. The river sloshed violently and crashed against the concrete pillars. I heard screams in the distance and knew at a crisis, people tended to look around… and up. They would see me. Especially when ambulances showed up.

It didn't take two seconds. After I had slung my right leg over the side, my whole frame went crashing down and the next second, I plummeted into the water.

My body sank like a rock and I clung to the bottom for a few seconds before I started to swim. I moved faster than any fishes I witnessed cowering behind weed and rocks. I swam till I hit the docks in Lawrence where I hopped up and started walking down Broadway.

Restaurants – as they are liked to be called – and various markets and home department stores littered the street. For once I walked nicely into a clothing store. The cashier looked at me strangely but it had started to drizzle outside so I quietly ignored her.

I picked a pair of dark skintight jean leggings, a deep red practically see-though lace tank top with thick straps, a grey crafted waterfall jacket in soft grey cotton – I no longer cared it was too cold outside to wear a jacket where the sleeves ended at the elbows. Since my shoes were completely ruined, I grabbed a pair of ankle high pumps, the same shade of red as my top, adorned in lace as well.

I paid and walked out as quickly as I came. I made a beeline for the alley next to the shop. Once I'd stepped out of my ruined clothes, I threw them in the trash and pulled my new ones on. The materials felt like any other and I both hated and loved that.

I continued my way down Broadway until I hit Main Street. A parking lot, littered with cars of various shapes, sizes and colors. I passed five rows before picking a black sedan with tinted windows.

Popping the hood, I searched for the black cable before pulling it out. The red blinking light, indicating an alarm, went out. I easily pried open the door without having to use too much force.

I must have been too quick with the patrol cars because I was driving well above the speed limit, following Man Street. It went far down Massachusetts into Boston where it emerged with highway 93.

I slowed the car down as I came though the city lines. I pulled off the highway and parked at the Riverside Yacht Club. I killed the engine and sat back, finally having some clarity.

I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, thinking if I should go back to Romania. Or maybe Hungary. My planes were ever changing. There wasn't a place in the world I couldn't go to. I zeroed in on Russia. Thinking how I would first, thing the following evening, steal a new car and drive to the airport. I'll hunt first, of course – having at least two. I visualized it, seeing them walk I front of me. I would stalk them for blocks, on foot, through buildings or above. I imagined sinking my teeth into their delicate necks.

I would then continue my plans on stealing a car, driving to the airport and buy a ticket for Moscow. Or maybe St. Petersburg. I was still vague on that part. But I had made up my mind now. I didn't dare think that my plans would change. I would leave, in due time.

I've gone through five centuries of this life. At first it was amazing. Everything was new and heightened. But I've grown tired now. We don't die… ever. I've always watched their lives leave their bodies and sometimes I envied them. They could so easily be destroyed. They could die from eating bad chicken! It isn't fair!

When I remembered where I was, I snapped my eyes open to find myself gasping and sobbing. My shoulders shook but my eyes remained as glassy as ever without a single tear. My hands had gripped the steering wheel so tight it had crumbled and the glossy wood had turned to splinters. I flexed my hands and watched the last traced of pulverization fall onto my lap.

The lights were on inside the clubhouse. But it was after nine. Must be a cleaning service. Perfect.

I left the car and walked across the small lot. I tried the door but it was locked. I pulled the handle until I heard it pop and then let myself in. Loud rap music streamed through the house but originating from a larger common room. I walked down the halls in human speed, looking into empty rooms out of boredom.

I finally reached the large room and watched from the doorway how a dark skinned man in his mid-twenties scurry across the floor with a mop. I leaned against the door and cocked my head to the side. There was one more human in here. I heard the heartbeat from fifty yards away.

Pushing away from the door, I started to slowly stalk the boy. I mirrored his every move, always staying at his back. His natural instincts kicked in and he continuingly watched over his shoulder. I came in close, dragged in a deep breath of the back of his neck. Mmmm, he smelled good.

He heard me and turned. I didn't move this time. He flinched back when he saw me. I smirked and bit my lip. His pupils dilated.

"Hi," I said in a light voice.

"Hi… you're not supposed to be in here." I pouted but then brought back the smirk.

"Are you going to tell on me? Besides… I wanted to talk to you."

"You did?"

"Uh-hu. I've seen you before."

"You have?" I nodded.

"I've been too shy to say anything before but I thought that now… since we're alone… it seemed perfect." I almost rolled my eyes at my own pronunciation. I actually purred. But it always paid off. It's too fun to screw with them.

"You don't seem like a shy person." He turned unconsciously but I was already there. He flinched away, taking several steps back. "How'd you do that?"

"Do what?" I asked, cocking my head to the side and took a step forward.

"You were just behind me."

"No I wasn't."

"Yes you were! I saw you!"

"You saw what, exactly?" I was right in front of him now, holding his throat, feeling the blood rush through his pathetic veins. I stared into his eyes, willing him to believe he didn't see anything.

"I… don't know." I smirked.

"That's more like it… If I were to tell you, you were about to die… how would you feel?" He stared into my eyes.

"Scared."

"Keep going."

"Terrified."

"More."

"Sad."

"Why sad?"

"I don't want to die."

"Why not? What do you have to live for?"

"I-"

"Aaaaaa!" I dropped the boy's throat and jerked my head to the doorway. A middle-aged woman stood before us, staring at me with fear. It took but a second before I crossed the room and had my teeth into the junction where her neck and shoulder meet.

A few drops of blood landed on the floor with a thud. By the time the woman fell to the ground, the man had regained his awareness and was staring at the body. I smirked, my lips stained with blood. He screamed.

I crossed the floor and ripped my nails across his throat. Blood shot out like a fountain and I sucked it all in greedily. I kept his body close to mine for several minutes, licking his wound clean before dropping him like the other body.

I went to the kitchen and removed the stove. I ripped a tube and smelled how the gas filled the room. I plugged in the toaster and then ran out of there. I watched from down the street, in the middle of a soccer field.

The windows blew out onto the street and river. The walls came next and then the roof exploded. The sky turned orange and I could hear sirens in the distance. I started to walk away.

I came though the obliterated doorway ad stalked my way upstairs. My bag was where I left it. I picked it up and left the house. Tonight I would stay in class at the Hilton. If it would have any effect on me, I'd go to the spa.

As I got out of the taxi, I placed deeply tinted sunglasses over my eyes. The lobby shone with too bright lights. The click of my shoes echoed as they landed on the marble floor. I went straight for the front desk, waiting as the manager finished sorting through papers.

He looked curiously at my sunglasses at first glance but then smiled warmly at me. Even a five year old could see it was fake.

"How may I help you?"

"I need a room." Isn't that obvious?

"Certainly. What's your price limit? I'm sure we'll be able to work something out." My lips barely twitched but I wanted to bit his head off. Too bad I'd already satiated myself quiet enough for the night. Too bad indeed.

"Money's not a problem." I flashed a smile before dropping it. He glanced at me one final time before lifting his eyes brows and scrolling through the computer. Maybe I could make an exception tonight.

"We have a first floor-"

"Not first floor."

"Okay. We have a fifth floor-"

"Nope."

"Then there's the penthouse suite."

"Excellent."

"Alright. How will you pay?"

"Cash." I brought out enough for me to stay through the weekend and then some. The manager looked carefully at the wad and then back at my face. I gave him an easy smile and watched how his doubt disappeared.

"Should I send someone for your bags?"

"I only have the one," I held it up.

"Why don't I escort you up there myself?" I flashed a wider smile.

"I would be very pleased if you did." I watched him leave for the elevators before following soundlessly. The lights in the small compartment were – if possible – even brighter than in the lobby. Is this was a headache is supposed to feel like?

The doors open into a narrow and short hallway. The manager opened the door at the end gracefully with only a twitch of his wrist and a keycard. When did they stop using real keys?

"Here you are." I stepped inside and removed the glasses.

Gold.

That's all I saw everywhere. But it wasn't as screaming as I would have thought. Could be the lighting but the floor seemed to almost shine. It was almost the same pattern as the lobby. Golden curtains hung from the ceilings high latch-free windows. A very long and rounded black and gold couch faced said windows with a small table behind, containing probably any kind of alcohol invented.

To the wall at my right was a staircase, leading to the second landing. Master bedroom, I supposed. To my left was the kitchenette and through that another hallway leading to a second bedroom. Behind the staircase, two doors. One, I figured, must be the bathroom and probably a hall closet in the last one.

"This is," I said, walking down two short steps towards the windows, looking over the city, "… very nice." I turned and flashed an easy smile before pretending to be interested in the dining table I hadn't noticed until now.

"I hope it is to your liking." I nodded absently, monitoring my expressing, making me seem sad all of a sudden.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes," I sighed and looked back at him.

"I'm just… I don't know… I just broke up with my boyfriend and sort of hate the fact that I'm spending our supposed anniversary alone. It's pathetic, isn't it?"

"No. No of course not," he said while taking a step back. It didn't fail my notice he'd let the door slit shut. "I'm very sorry."

"Thank you," I smiled sadly while walking towards him, stopping just three feet away. I could literally feel the heat radiating towards me and his blood… he smelled so good. I almost licked my lips but caught myself just in time, saving myself by wetting them, as if a loss for words.

"Let me know if there's anything I can get you." My smile fell into a smirk when I heard his subtle innuendo.

"Thank you."

"My shift doesn't end until three hours. I won't mind the trips." I smiled while closing the door in his face. He would be back. I'm almost too good at this.

I threw my bag onto the couch and raced up the steps. The huge king-size bed stood in the centre of the room, headboard tightly secured against the wall. A vanity table to my left and another bathroom to my right. I walked inside to find a whole wall of windows along with a big-enough-for-six bathtub. I immediately went and put on the water, feeling the velvet drops slide over my icy hand and onto the tiles.

I turned the lights off, stripped off my clothes and slowly sank down into the water. I can't remember the last time I took a bath. Not that we need to. But there is something reassuringly _normal_ about taking a bath in the essential need of washing ones hair and body. I leaned back and watched the city of Boston lying at my feet.

For one moment I felt something deep within me that I hadn't felt in a very long time.

Fear.

I have always thought myself as having an expiration date and for some reason; that date seemed to come closer and closer all of a sudden. And that scared me. I couldn't understand where this was coming from. Though I wasn't entirely sure of what I would be expiring from.

Every time I had wished to die, the time might be coming and I didn't want it anymore. Or at least I thought I didn't. I haven't been afraid since… I honestly couldn't remember. Uneasy, sure. But terrified? Of werewolves'?

I knew about them well. But by the time I had my first encounter with one; it was still uncharted territory. There were only books then and not many could tell me what it was I killed. A beast which turned into a man. At the time I didn't know what to think. But I met people who gladly filled in for me. Since then, Wikipedia has been keeping me thoroughly entertained. It's not like it's been written. They aren't allergic to silver or any vegetation for that matter. They don't age, making them essentially as old as vampires. Their first shift is during a full moon. Extremely painful. I take comfort in that. But in my opinion, nothing could ever compare to three days of burning.

But after that first shift, they are able to transform whenever they want. It takes practice though. Or at least that's what I've been told. I would imagine it to be easier when faced with a threat; input me. Though I didn't know how it was developed or passed down. Perhaps through genes. Maybe a bite. Maybe when vampires came to be, so did werewolves'. Everything needs an opposite.

There is only one more thing. It's the most essential to date. Their teeth and their claws are strong enough to pierce the skin of an immortal. I scoffed at such ridicule when first heard but after this latest attack… I was convinced.

I looked down at the inside of my lower arm, just above my wrist. It was pitch dark in the room but I could still spot the scratch. It's barely two inches and while it doesn't hurt anymore… it is the only scar I have on my otherwise flawless body. It almost seems to shimmer in the most unnatural shade of silver. I raised my soaked hand and let my index finger touch the healed wound. I've never seen my skin heal before. I have never had the opportunity.

As my finger touched my skin, I felt something. It wasn't painful in any way but it was almost as if I was… _sore_

* * *

_**AN: So how is it coming together? Reviews are the only way for me to get better. **_


	8. You feel the last bit of breath leaving

"_You feel the last bit of breath leaving their body. You're looking into their eyes. A person in that situation is God" _

_~.~  
_

The decomposing body of the hotel manager weighed down on the bed. The stench had yet to reach the whole room. I lay on my back, gaze fixed out the massive window in the living room/ dining room. I watched every step how dusk became dawn and eventually midday. But for almost twenty minutes, the sun shone between the earth and the clouds.

I stared into the orb as it ascended and finally disappeared. I saw black spots for several minutes but then my eyes healed themselves and I was left staring at the ceiling, wondering what to do next. CNN stood on in the bedroom. BBC was on right across from me and my laptop laid idly on the coffee table, waiting for me to type in my request.

For four hours I had been looking up every piece of news there was on animal attacks. They were growing fewer and fewer; a definite sign of my recent departure. But I wasn't looking for animal attacks. Not in the direct sense. While_ they_ are not dependent upon blood like the rest of us, accidents do happen but they usually tried to avoid causalities'.

No I was looking for the hidden messages. To stay hidden was an impressive feat, but to vanish completely; that was impossible. Animal attacks were the easiest way to cover up unexplained deaths.

In the mountains of Hungary, almost at the boarder of Austria, sightings of wolves had increased. It wasn't out of the ordinary but it was enough to peak my attention.

But I'd had a revelation over the night.

That fear I sensed in the bath had all but disappeared and in its place, my usual and comforting arrogance had returned. So what if they wanted revenge. And who's to say the mutt was traveling with a pack. He could have been by himself. Though that seemed unlikely. I was willing to play with the fact that he was accompanied by one other wolf. Who's to say that somewhat wanted revenge? Maybe he or she wasn't so close to the mutt. And even if he or she were, what could they possibly do? Even if they knew who I was? Seek me out? Go right ahead. I've familiarized myself with their anatomy for a reason.

My mind again wandered back to; what could they possibly do? They're nothing compared to my power and knowledge. They may not age once they know how to transform on a regular basis but if they stop long enough, they will die. Most of them chose to end their line once they decided to settle down. Or that's what I've heard.

When commercials broke, I closed my eyes and sighed. This was ridiculous. I would only fret myself if thinking about it. Where I would go next disturbed me more. I wasn't going back to Russia. Though it would be nice, especially this time of year. I could go to Alaska. But I was bored with blending in and passing the day like I was just here for the ride. I wanted to do something. Anything, really, that didn't involve sitting in an abandoned building or a hotel room, lurking like some kind of freak. I missed Paris.

I jumped off the couch and ran upstairs. The manager's mouth was still ajar, his face contorted in pain. I grabbed his body and rushed to the nearest laundry chute. The body rumbled down fast and I went back into the room, locking the door behind me.

I turned off the televisions and grabbed my bag and laptop. They day had flown by during my quiet musings and it was dark enough outside that nobody would see me for my true self.

Walking into the little bathroom at the foyer, I opened the miniscule window. I jumped up and sat on the sill for a second before holding tightly to my bag and then slipping out.

The wind whipped around me like velvet. Before impact, I pushed the bag above my shoulder. The next second I hit the ground. My feet landed perfectly on the concrete. The stone crumbled beneath and I walked away like this was perfectly normal, which it kind of is.

After stealing the first car I saw, I jumpstarted the engine and it purred to life. It started to rain. At first it was just a drizzle but now it was pelting down so hard on the roof I could barely think.

I sighed and sat down on the hood. The license plates rested in my hands and I was already picking the frontal apart. Pieces fell limply at my feet. I threw the remaining metal on the ground and picked up the other plate, continuing my assault.

The rain had slowed to a drizzle. It bounced off my face and rolled down my cheeks and yaw. My clothes were completely soaked through, as was my hair. The last piece of metal hit the asphalt. I got up and went around the car, popping the trunk.

Grabbing my bag, I went into the backseat and started peeling layers of clothing and my shoes off. I pulled on grey skinny cargo pants, a pair of dark brown wedge boots with a cork heel and a longer loose fitted t-shirt with elbow long arms in a soft blue tone.

Searching in the way back of the bag, I ripped a tear in the inner lining. I had –a long time ago – made a similar incision. Probing a finger inside, I felt my way to the chain. I hooked it over my forefinger and hefted it out.

From afar, the chain looked brass but peering closer and cleaning off the years of dirt, you saw the gold shine through. One small circular locket lay limply in the middle; a single yellow hand painted rose above a white background with emerald leaves on a strong stem. I touched the tiny box with a gentle finger. It still felt as smooth. I opened it and inside laid one crumbled petal. I didn't dare touch it; fear that it might vanish made me close the locket. I carefully placed the chain around my throat, the yellow rose lying coldly just below my collar bones.

I yanked the last drops of water out of my hair before jumping into the driving seat. Pushing the dark forming curls out of my face and started the car once again and I drove for ten minutes until coming on to highway 94.

Through the fog I could see the outlines of the lake. I made my way through the narrow dirt road until I came to a resting stop. I drove past and got the car as deep into the woods as possible. I ditched the car and made my way down the impossibly large dirt road before coming to a diner.

The fog was thickening and there were scarcely of people in the diner. I took a booth in the corner, slamming my duffle bag down on the empty seat right in front of me. The waitress came over. I calmly asked for a glass of water. She hid it well but I saw her disappointment. Leaning back and bringing my feet up, I gaze over the emptying place. It's almost as if taken directly from 50s with the exceptions of milkshakes and poodle skirts.

I watch the slight buzz in one of the fluorescent lights above the bar before feeling my contacts completely dissolve. Those were my last pair. I decided I didn't care. So what if they saw my true self. Either they'd ignore it or they would jump up screaming. If the latter, there was a very easy way of taking care of hysterical people.

The last person – a truck driver – got up from his seat, grunted about how splendid the food was and then left the lot, leaving me, two waitresses and a cook all alone. The lamp started flickering harder and soon extinguished completely. I leaned my head against the hard comfort of the booth and sighed.

"… _they were last seen leaving the camp site for a more secluded area. A source tells us bloody sleeping bags have been found. Whether this is the work of a professional or a tragic animal attack, has yet to be determined. Stay tuned for more…" _

My body froze as the radio crackled on. I slowly moved my head and peered over at the counter. One waitress was leaning against the counter, maneuvering a remote for a TV which sat perched on the wall.

"_Yesterday, two hikers – whose identities' have yet to be released – were reported missing in the West Virginia area. A source tells us the couples were hiking with a group of friends and decided they were going their separate way for a few hours. They have not been seen since. The same source tells us a bloody sleeping bag has been recovered. It has not been determined whether or not the sleeping bag belonged to one of the missing but a source tells us it is highly possible. _

_Whether this is the work of a professional or a tragic accident is yet unknown. We'll go over to Jason, who's on the scene. Jason?" _

"_Yes, Bill. I'm here with a witness who will tell us about the night." _The camera closed in on a middle aged man with a ranger's uniform.

"_I heard them calling for help on the radio. I immediately left my house and went into the woods. I am very familiar with the terrain and found them quickly." _

"_What did you see?" _

"_It was very dark and even with the flashlight, my vision was blurred. But there are a number of highly dangerous animals in these woods. There are mountain lions, bears and even wolves." _

"_Could an animal have attacked them?" _

"_It is possible. If they encountered a mountain lion, their chances of survival are slim to none. Bears tend to stick by themselves and only attack when provoked or threatened. Wolves on the other hand… they smell fresh meat; they are coming for you. Though they are easier to scare off then bears or mountain lions." _

"_But wouldn't anyone have heard them scream?" _

"_Sometimes, fear can paralyze you. I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't have time to scream." _

"_Thank you…" _The reported went back into focus but I didn't listen to anything. I couldn't stop looking at the ranger, still standing in the background. His whole demeanor bothered me. He was way too calm and he looked shaggier than I would have thought possible for anyone who had means to clean themselves regularly.

I shrugged it off, knowing it couldn't possibly be what my deeper paranoia deemed it as. The thought is ridiculous. Even if I couldn't stop thinking about it. Maybe I should go back to Alaska.

My mood deepened and I threw my phone onto the table, letting my head hit the booth padding once more. To say I was having a bad day would have been an understatement.

For one minute, I let myself relish in the fact that I was living throughout eternity with pessimism and boredom. I've seen it all and done it all. Less than nothing will shock me and I've realized I don't enjoy it like I used to. Sure it's fun scaring the shit out of people but that rush ends as soon as their lives do. Then what? Sure I can go on a massacre spree but that won't accomplish anything.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

The waitresses' started gossiping again and I think I'm at the point where I will either scratch my own ears out for having to listen to their wining chatter another second or get up and rip their ears out. Or throats. Whatever I could reach first.

I wasn't thirsty. I didn't have a burning sensation in my throat. But I was imagining all the ways I could kill them. I could do it quick and they would never know. But then they would never know. I could kill the cook first, make them helpless. But then they would scream and cry. Idiots.

I could kill one waitress and then leave the cook and other bimbo alive long enough to reveal my true self. The cook would play hard-ass – of course – but flashing my teeth would ensure his silence.

I could take out both waitresses and then have some fun with the cook. Slash one's throat while shoving my arm through the other's stomach. Tarantino would be proud.

Maybe I could paralyze one and then leave her dying on the floor while torturing the other. I imagined breaking every single bone in her body until there was nothing left to crack. But once there was blood spilled… I'm sure I could walk away if I truly wanted to. Centuries have prepared me for such tolerance but it would be nice to taste them and not rush through it.

"Would you like some more water?" I snapped my eyes up and stared for one second at the waitress.

"No thank you," I replied cuttingly. Even after so many years, a small part of Dorchester accent still lingered in my voice. I didn't know if anyone else notice but sometimes it seemed to scream at me.

I watched her retrieving form and redirected my eyes to the side, making some of my hair fall down to cover half my face. I met my gaze in the diner window across the room and watched my face with a cocked head.

I remember my vain thought from a different lifetime. I have always been pale. I don't actually remember looking at myself in a mirror for any longer period of time but I know I always pride myself for my flawless complexion and shockingly red hair with a few – very few – orangey tints as highlights.

I used to love my hair. I loved the color, the length. I even loved how naturally curly it was- is. In those days, it took hours and countless trips to the stove to gain such perfection.

I looked away from the image, not caring for the rest. Next were my eyes. They used to be brown. At least that's what Thomas used to tell me. They were dark with a depth he had never seen before. Of course he could have been pulling any kind of crap with me and I took it because he said it. When did I become such a cliché?

It started to rain outside. The drizzle blew in the wind and I heard it drop into the lake just across the street. I swung my feet down and with my elbows on the table, twirling the straw around the melting ice cubes. Cocking my head to the side, I lowered my head and put my lips to the straw and sucked in a few drops of water. The cold liquid hit my tongue fast and I drew back, confused by the familiar and yet foreign texture. I felt around with my tongue but the water was already gone. I mentally shrugged.

The darkness was approaching. I still wasn't sure whether or not it was worthy of my time to kill the staff.

As soon as my thought finished, the door opened and two people stepped inside, bringing chilly air and moisture into the room. I sighed and sat back. So this is what will eventually kill me. No werewolves' in sigh when there's boredom. I couldn't believe I've become so pathetic I couldn't find anything remotely interesting to occupy my time with.

I shot my gaze across the room as the coffee machine went on once more and produced the dark liquid which – surprisingly – didn't smell half as bad as I would have thought. I went back to gawking at the downpour, my hand rising unconsciously with my thumb and forefinger, subtly resting at the tip of my lower lip. The ice breath leaving my lunges did nothing to the markings on the window, just three inches away from my face.

My phone vibrated thoroughly on the table. Not taking my eyes off the weather, fully capable of thinking and acting upon numerous things at once, I pressed the green button and held the device up to my ear.

"Yes?" I was highly certain of who would be calling. Only a few people had my number, as it changes several times a year due to various circumstances.

"Hello Marie." However, I was not familiar with this tone. As soon as my less than publically known name was spoken, I was no longer seeing the scenery before me.

"Who is this?"

"You don't know me." It was a male. His voice was low but very smooth. I instantly knew – if not his identity – his specie. "But I know you."

"Is that so?" As paranoid as I was, I turned my head in the direction of the two waitresses. They were still gossiping. The cook was humming to an unfamiliar Mexican song and the two people who entered not five minutes ago were in deep conversation. I turned back to the rain. "And pray tell; how have you come to such knowledge when I won't be bothered with a name?"

"My name is not of importance." He was old. Takes on to know one.

"Then what is? That whole dramatic input of my name; nice touch. But this is as far as your… _threat_… goes."

"Why would me calling be a threat?"

"I don't play nice with the other kids." He chuckled softly.

"I don't doubt that."

"Have we met before? I'm trying to place your accent."

"No. Never. But we share an acquaintance… or used to, in your case."

"So coy." I leaned back, picking up red strands and twirling it around two fingers.

"Does the name Edward Cullen mean anything to you?" My hand stopped and my gaze froze on the strands.

"Should it?"

"No need for the act… I'm well aware of yours and Edward's past."

"Ah-ha. And what is that?"

"Physical." I didn't even pretend to not know what he was talking about.

"What's this about? Or is that not of importance either?"

"This is about the Cullen's and their… _situation_."

"What situation?"

"Their growth."

"You lost me." But he hadn't. There would only be one person – or several really, but stay with me – who would ever care about the size of another coven.

"This is a matter of… security, Marie… or do you prefer Bella? You give so many names, how am I to be certain?"

"Bella," I replied slowly and calmly, not sure I should be giving my name to him.

"Well then," the man continued, he sounded almost cheerful. "I would like to ask of you a favor." I snorted.

"I bet you would. I don't do favors."

"I'm aware. You see…. I've been keeping a close eye on you. Or trying, rather. You are a hard vampire to keep track of. I will admit I've lost track of you many times over the years."

"Doesn't your _dog_ do that for you?" He laughed. The sound was like bells. He was older than I original thought. Much, much older than me. I didn't like this.

"So he told you about us. How delightful!"

"Is it?"

"Of course! It makes this whole conversation so much better!"

"In what way?"

"No need for pesky details. Let get back to the favor-"

"Ah, but I already expressed deep resentment to the sort. Find someone else to do your dirty work."

"I only want you to pay them a visit." I tried calculating his words and their hidden meaning.

"Pardon?" I finally said with deep confusion. The man seemed pleased to have my attention again.

"Like I said. I am _concerned_ with their growth."

"Isn't that a tad hypocritical, _Aro_?" There was a short pause before he spoke again.

"Just for argument's sake… how'd you know it was me?"

"You just told me."

"Reversed psychology. You're something else, aren't you?"

"I sure am." I swiped the room once more, keeping my voice calm and low. "While this has been fantastically uninteresting for me… I must hang up-"

"Do not hang up on me!" The cheerful voice I almost enjoyed was gone. In its stead, this hateful and venomous tone bellowed. After almost 400 years, my stomach dropped and I felt the hair at the back of my neck stand. I almost snarled but then remembered where I was.

"As I was saying. You do me this favor and I'll restore one for you."

"And what would I ever want from you?" Though the offer was tempting; I didn't make deals with the devil. I knew of the hold Aro could have on you. I wasn't interested in ending up owing him for the rest of eternity.

"I know about you little… _werewolf_ problem." Well this guy was all over the place, wasn't he?

"There is no problem."

"Oh no? That is not at all what I've heard. You know… we have had out share of problems with those dogs for centuries. In fact, that's the first time we met. Or it feels like we did. Thoughts are so real, even when they are not your own." I knew of what he spoke. My mind slipped back, flashes coming and going like a movie. "Did you know that werewolves and vampires have been at war since well… forever?"

"I can't say I did."

"Well we have and believe me – as a bystander – it has been a whirlwind of disappointments."

"What do you mean?"

"Well we can't have them roaming around at large. Someone could get hurt or worse… our secret – _secrets_ – could be revealed. That can never happen. We had to take matters into our own hands. Russia has always been infested. Or it used to. Do you remember, Bella? What am I saying? Of course you do! But I'm still amazed at how you escaped. Alec had no affect on you at all. Fascinating!" My mind flashed to the young boy standing across the forest floor. I hadn't thought much of it then but he had only been staring at me. He didn't even try to catch me. I blinked.

"You lost me again."

"Like the wolves… the Cullen's have become a _problem_. We don't believe they can maintain their discretion much longer… if they even want to."

The urge to say anything remotely sarcastic and condescending was unbearable but I kept quiet, knowing he would spin my words against me. I opted for a deep frown. One of the waitresses peered my way before making a remark towards her friend. They both snickered and continued to periodically gaze over at my booth.

"The wolves are coming for you." I beat down the urge to laugh.

"Oh they are, are they?"

"This may seem like a joke to you but I know for a fact there is over one doze of those mutts looking for you."

"And why would they? Seems an awful lot to put themselves through."

"The wolf you killed in Romania. He was their leader. I know you know the ramifications of bringing down their _beloved_ alpha." I did, but I wasn't going to let him know that. "All you have to do is make a short visit and then report back. Nothing more, nothing less."

"And what would you do with this information?"

"Guard it carefully. I assure you I wouldn't want any misunderstandings to occur."

"Of course not," I mocked. "Thanks but I think I'm gonna take a pass on that one." There was a deep and heavy sigh on the other end. I entertained in the idea of hanging up just to piss him off but stay on the line, though not making a sound.

"I didn't want to do this but you should know you leave me no choice."

"I'm practically shaking," I replied in a bored tone as I checked for split ends. There were none, of course.

"I have the largest group of vampires who – with a mere second's notice – will leave to hunt you."

"Excuse me?"

"Breaking the law it forbidden. Hence the word _law_."

"I haven't broken any laws," I hissed.

"Oh no? Russia, 1703. Does that ring a bell?" I hesitated; flashbacks flickered like a movie.

"I did not break any laws."

"You were in the midst of a fight between vampires and werewolves. To be clear, _we_ were coming there to seize the problem. As I remember – if my perfect memory sees me right – you were living on their grounds." My nostrils flared with rage.

"I haven't done anything wrong," I hissed. He was twisting this around. He knew he could dig up circumstance after circumstance. His words were final. Only those who weren't as _understanding_ of the Volturi system would look between the cracks. He had too many on his side.

"It didn't look like that. I have it from a reliable source that you have behaved undesirably from the very start; taking risks, not thinking things through before acting upon them." My gaze shot up. For a split second I felt confused but then heard what he had said 'from the very start'. There would only be one person… I was seething now.

How fucking dare he?

I gripped the phone too tightly, hearing a tiny but prominent _crack_. I took a deep breath, calming myself down long enough to speak to Aro.

"Reliable source, huh? I don't follow orders!" I clenched my other hand, feeling my nails almost tear through my flesh.

"Think of it more as a favor." There's that word again. "And you get something out of it too. You get one in return. Not many have had the fortune."

"I feel so special." Aro stayed quiet while I deliberated how I could possibly get out of this. But then again, so what if they chased me forever. There was one – what was his name? Damian? Dorian? Demitri! – who could track anyone. But even so, he and I have never met. I know when to get my facts straight.

"If you don't agree," he warned, "we are prepared to hunt down everyone you know." I rolled my eyes. Empty threats get us nowhere.

"First of all, you must mistake me with someone who gives a shit. And secondly, why are you bothering _me_ with this?"

"Because you are the only one who could go to them, make them see the lie and believe it." I blinked again. How could he have known… Riley!

So that's what the bastard was doing there. Un-fucking-believable. At least him I could deal with. His days were numbered now. I hoped he knew it. I hoped he looked over his shoulders, thinking this was the moment I would get him.

"Am I? I'm afraid I don't know what you mean." I rolled my eyes while letting my head fall back. Such a horrible time for a lie.

"Don't play dumb, Bella. It doesn't suit a woman your age." My face contorted in bewilderment.

"Ouch."

"What say you?" I took a breath.

"I will not have them murdered by whichever way you twist my words."

"My dear child! That is not what we do! I am merely concerned that they are attracting the wrong kind of attention." I huffed.

"We're all attracting the wrong kind of attention. And if anyone, they would be better at hiding it." Aro didn't like my words so he chose to ignore them.

"What say you?" Another deep breath.

"And these extremely vague _circumstances_?"

"Would be dismissed at first notion, of course."

"And how would I see fit my return favor?"

"By any means you find fit."

"And what about confidentiality?"

"I am the only one aware of the details at this time." I looked up at the ceiling, feeling weird and insufficient. "Do we have a deal?"

"Yes," I whispered and immediately after, only got the sound of a disconnected line. Dread surged within me. But as soon as it entered, it was gone. A new emotion appeared. Fury. Hatred. Before I realized it, I had crushed my phone. Completely pulverized it with my bare hand. The noise had attracted an unwanted audience. My gaze slowly moves up.

There were five beating hearts in the facility. The cook was still mutely singing in the kitchen, completely oblivious. The waitresses looked with wide eyes at me. I dropped the phone pieces on the table. They saw my eyes. There was no walking away from it now.

They made their move.

The waitresses scrambled for the back exit. I would deal with them later. There were two bystanders whom hadn't yet fully grasped what just happened. I hadn't gotten a good glimpse of them before but I sure saw them now. A young man, earlier thirties with deep black hair along with an older gentleman with thinning grey hair and an old fishing vest. I pushed my fist through the younger one's back, spine in hand. He dropped, without a gasp, head first onto the table. The old man had barely time to understand before I grabbed the back of his head and shoves his face into the tacky plywood table. The table split and tilted. The old man's face cracked and then his pulse slowed before giving out. I let go of him as I heard the distinctive sound of a shotgun loading up. I smirked.

Cook to the rescue.

"Get out of here. Now!" I slowly turned just my head, watching the Hispanic man from the corner of my eye. His arms were trembling. His knees could barely support him. He kept mumbling and whispering Spanish words beneath his breath. I slowly, very slowly, turned my frame, staring him straight in the eyes, smirk still in place. I dropped the spine on the floor.

"Dios mío," he whispered before leveling the shotgun towards my chest. Blood was dripping down my arm; the intestines behind me were starting to smell. Their blood was bad now. But I didn't want it. This wasn't about food. I felt sorry for these people. They were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Such a cliché.

I charged forward, pushing the shotgun to my left just as it went off. I barely felt the vibration. I grabbed it and flung it from the man's hands. He almost seemed willing to let it go. The weapon landed against a window – cracking it – before tumbling to the floor, unconsciously firing another shot. The man flinched and as he closed his eyes out of fear, I grabbed him, sinking my teeth deeper and deeper into his neck. I practically clawed my way through half his frame before letting go. He fell in a heavy pile. I took a calm step over.

I could hear their cries. There were in the bathroom, trying to get out the window. I calmly strode over to the sink, watching my discarded reflection. I had blood all over me. I frowned and splashed water in my face. My shirt was ruined, along with my shoes. I frowned deeper. I liked those shoes. I dragged a towel from the stove – which was still pushing gas into the room but without a flame – and dried myself off.

I dropped it to the floor and went to the bathroom. The door was locked. Of course it was. The waitresses' stilled for a second on the other side but then resumed to push at a window that would never open for them. I flung the door open with one hand.

They froze but their hearts pumped faster.

I took a step forth and one girl tried to run around me. I grabbed her by the neck and pushed my thumb to the side till I heard a definite _pop_. I then let her drop to the ground like the cook. The other girl started crying and sank down to the floor, knees kept tightly to her chest. I took another step forward. She flinched back. When I got to her, I sank to a crouch, gently pushing my forefinger against her knee. She flinched and screamed.

"No one is going to hear you," I said quietly. She stopped screaming but continued crying.

"Wh-why are y-you doing this?" I cocked my head to the side.

"You just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. I'm sorry about that."

"P-p-please let m-me go. I-I won't tell." I sighed, looking sympathetic.

"No. You won't." I grabbed her left shoulder and sank my teeth into her. Her legs thrashed on the floor before finally giving out, just like her arms did a second before. I pulled away with a gasp, feeling recharged.

I grabbed both waitresses by one of their arms and dragged them into the kitchen. I pulled the cook, old man and younger on in there as well. The room reeked of Butane. I gently made my way back to the booth I was just in. I grabbed my bag and threw the phone – taking out the sim card first – into the nearest thrash can.

I made my way to the parking lot, looking at my options. I smirked and silently thanked the old man and he son. At least that's what I presumed. Probably bonding over a road trip. I dropped the duffle bag on the hood – reached inside for one small thing and then rushed back into the diner to get the keys. I found them in the son's pants. I pushed them into my back pocket and retrieved my lighter.

I found a newspaper and rolled it up into a ball; setting it on fire. I gently laid it down on the pile of corpses and then flashed back outside to the waiting 67 Impala. It was unbelievable. Gleaming black with the wide front seat. I popped the trunk and got out the three suitcases and threw them through the front window of the diner. I slowly backed out and started down the road. I counted to sixteen before there was a loud BOOM in the back. I watched in the commotion in the rearview mirror, smirking as I headed up towards Thunder Bay.

* * *

**Is it weird if I say I had a good time writing this chapter? Especially the last part? **

**I'm slightly saddened that this is the last chapter for a while. I'm going to Paris in a few days. But fear not, I wont make you wait too long. I've probably said - written - that before but that doesn't mean I don't mean it as much.  
**


	9. Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost

"_Not all those who wander are lost"_

_Russia 1703_

_I was running as fast as I could. _

_But he was gaining on me. Or they were. I didn't know anymore. There had only been one at the house. Of that I was certain. But I heard a lot of noises around me now. I couldn't be sure of anything at this point. _

_My hair flew behind me in the wind. My clothes caught on branches and tore. The humanly heavy fabric was catching at my feet. If I didn't pay attention, I would get too distracted and then it would be over. I couldn't get caught. Some part of me wanted to stop, try to understand why they were doing this. But I knew that would be foolish. _

_I saw an underpass, only a couple of yards away. I threw myself beneath and stopped breathing. I heard him in the distance. And then another. Their steps were light - naturally - but one's was slower, more calculating. As if he had been doing this sort of thing for a longer time. I scrambled together until I was sure I would melt into the stone. I craned my neck, shoving my head down to my knees. I didn't dare look up. _

_Their feet were slowing. I bit my lip as to not to breathe. It was uncomfortable not knowing my surroundings. It even made me tremble. But I held it together, freezing my limbs. They could not hear me. They could not smell me. The rain quickened and with it, my scent would be washed away and thrown over various places in the close proximity. _

_I heard them retreat but I still didn't move. It could be a trap; making me think they were backing off and the second I looked up, they would be there. I may have been a newbie but I wasn't stupid. _

_Several minutes passed and I felt it safe to raise my head. After another minute I opened my mouth to breathe. There was only water in the air. Nothing unfamiliar. Nothing I could hear, either. I slowly raised my hands and undid the strings from my lower to middle back. I ripped the silk and lace until it fell off my frame. I slowly stood and walked out of the fabric. _

_Running a hand through my hair, I ripped off a few strands and laid them on the heap of silk. I brought my nails to my chest and dragged them down the hard bodice of the corset. It fell to the ground, splashing against the brook. I stopped breathing. Someone just inhaled. I backed into the stones once more and raised my foot to rid myself of my shoes. I would run faster without them. _

_The wood and leather felt to the ground as well. I knew they heard it. But I needed to know where they were. More importantly; left or right? _

_I whipped my head around, trying to peer through stone and wood. And then I saw him. It wasn't the one from the house. This one was smaller, younger. Brown hair reaching below his ears and neatly dressed with impeccable style. The vampire peered across the forest floor before spotting me; his deep burgundy eyes narrowing in recognition. _

_And then I ran like hell. _

_My hair caught in a branch. I ripped my head to the side, taking a few strands off simultaneously. The braid had come loose and my hair was now plastered to my neck, forehead, arms and back. I stopped running, turning my head in every direction. _

_I couldn't see anyone but that didn't mean they weren't out there. I started moving again, taking a different route this time. I climbed the first tree to my left, going straight to the top. I worn myself to fit the tree and observed the terrain. Still nothing. I leaped into the air and crashed into the nearest tree. _

_I jumped for several miles until there was nothing more. The road was just a few yards away. I jumped down and landed gracefully on my feet. I stayed in a crouch for several moments before slowly rising to a standing position. _

_I moved with precise steps onto the road. A carriage, barely a mile away, pierced my hearing. Whipping my head to the side, I heard the faint thumps of heartbeats'. There were three of them, not including the horses. My mouth filled with venom but I swallowed it back. I wouldn't lose control. I fed not five days ago. I would be fine. _

_My reassurance wasn't so reassuring. _

_The carriage came into view. I ripped my dress at the top and bottom hem and appeared to be limping while pushing my hair around my face. When the man saw me, he drew on the horses to make them stop. I limped towards him. _

"_Pozhaluĭsta, pomogite mne,"_(Please help me.)_ I pleaded in a weak voice. _

"_Otoĭti!" _(Move away!) _He yelled in an angry voice. I extended my hearing but there were only the beating hearts in my head. And they were so _near_. _

"_YA byl atakovan._ _Tam vsego lishʹ za mnoĭ."_ (I was attacked. There are men chasing me.)_ I looked at him with big eyes and a trembling lip. He needed to buy it. "Pozhaluĭsta." _(Please.) _The man almost snarled but was then halted by a soft voice from inside the carriage. _

"_To, chto proishodit?" _(What is happening?)

"_Sushchestvuet devushku na doroge . Ona ne budet dvigatʹsya." _(There is a girl on the road. She won't move.)_ The driver spoke with a hard and insulting tone. It made my skin crawl and my lips to pull back. I forced my anger down. This was not the time. I redirected my voice towards the carriage. _

"_Mne nuzhna pomoshchʹ. Pozhaluĭsta." _(I need help. Please.) _The door opened and I looked behind me. They couldn't be far away. Even if they managed to lose my scent. _

_An old woman stepped out. She wore a long and elegant silk dress which shimmered in gold and white along with a black velvet traveling cloak above. A small boy peered out from behind the woman. She gently pushed him back inside. She took one look at me. _

"_Vy dolzhny sprositʹ zamorazhivaniya. Idi syuda," _(You must be freezing. Come here.) _She beckoned me forward with one hand. I made a show of shivering and limped my way towards her. I felt her body heat radiate towards me but ignored the scorch in my throat. When I came close enough she touched my hand and gasped at my temperature. _

"_Bozhe moĭ. Ty holodna, kak led. Zahodi. Davaĭ." _(My God. You're as cold as ice. Come inside. Come on)_ She led me inside and as I sat down I met the eyes of a strange being. The boy couldn't have been any older than ten years. I carefully avoided my gaze. I need not alarm them. It was dark enough they wouldn't notice how unnaturally red my irises were. _

_The woman came in as well with another similar black cloak over her arms. She gave it to me and I accepted before sitting down next to the boy but still close enough that I could visibly see her artery move with each beat. I steered my eyes away. _

"_Spacibo," _(Thank you)_ I said meekly. The carriage started moving again and I felt my fear slowly wash away. I wrapped the cloak tightly around my neck and threw it over my body. _

"_Kak tebya zovut?" _(What is your name?)_ I looked up into the gentle eyes and found myself saying; _

"_Bella." _

_It was the first time I ever referred to myself as Bella. Before it had been either Isabella or Marie or a clever alias but I found I didn't want to lie to someone who had shown me nothing but kindness. It went against my new nature but I remembered a time when I hadn't been filled with thirst. I think that is how that girl would have proceeded. _

My eyes snapped open and I took calming breaths while roaming the room with my piercing gaze. I yanked my phone off the bedside table and checked the time. Just after nine. Sighing, I sat up, got off the bed and walked across the room to the vanity table. I pulled my hair to the side and started to braid it messily. Strands fell around my face and neck. I tied it together with a hair band and then turned to my right where three large shopping bags waited on a small bureau.

I pulled on a pair of thin grey jean leggings and a white tank top. Sitting down, I started to apply make-up. I did not need it to enhance or alter my appearance. But it was cold enough outside people would notice when my breath didn't fog and my skin remained as pale as ever. I found the rouge to make me disfigured but it wasn't any different to what I've seen in magazines or movies. After applying the tiniest amount of lipstick/lip-gloss – I don't care – I wiped my index finger under my bottom lip, getting rid of any imperfections before standing up and stepping into my newly bought beige wedge ankle boots. I instantly grew three and a half inches. I then pulled on a black cardigan with a deep V-neck with five large buttons and over it; a black cotton jacket. Lastly, I neatly pulled on a grey beret which dropped at the back before pushing my cell phone into the front pocket of my jacket, money in the other and then I left the room.

There was frost on the ground and windows. I watched how people hurried from houses to cars, desperate for some heat. I cocked my head to the side, wondering how it felt to be cold, to come into your home with the fireplace flaming in the living room and feel the warmth surge into your body, rejecting the cold.

My musing didn't go on for long, it usually never does. I pushed small ear buds into my ears and put my phone on shuffle – playing me everything from Led Zeppelin to Aerosmith to Beethoven – before moving along the street.

People rushed by me, most of them carrying large backpacks which seemed to be weighing them down. The wind blew their scent into my face. I took a deep breath, letting it surge through me. They smelled so good. So _fresh_. But I would never intentionally take a child. They were the epitome of defenselessness. Adults knew the naughty words which helped with their fear.

Nevertheless, I followed the tiny humans as they rushed inside the warm confinements of the school. I stopped on the other side of the street, gently cocking my head to the side.

It looked like any other I've seen over the years. Red bricks. Large oppressive windows. Institutionalized. The metal fence which surrounded the school – or I believe it used too – lay in parts damaged at the street while the rest seemed frozen between standing and hanging.

I took a few steps down the street until I could watch more meticulously through the windows. The late students continuingly interrupted the teacher. He sighed more and more often, publicly displaying his lack of patience. No one seemed to care. And while I couldn't understand the difficulty of math, I understood the social pain of having to go through hours of sitting in a closed environment every day – trying to cram in some vital information – when more than half of them are bound to fail later in life. And when I say fail I mean crash and burn fail. Just a few more notches in the overall statistics.

I walked a few yards before peering through a different set of windows. Organic Chemistry. Fascinating. Sarcasm intended.

Isn't that a subject too evolved for kids who still look like they watch Hannah Montana on the Disney channel?

I continued down the corner and saw the gigantic parking lot. Various metal plates stood high as reservations. It's a cry of help when schools have grander parking lots than they have decent class rooms and teachers.

I turned away from the sight and pondered my next option.

I could literally walk around this town for days or weeks if I wanted. But it's been a week since I last fed. I didn't necessarily need it but… I wanted it. I wanted to hunt. To really hunt. The docks stretched for miles and miles. I wanted a challenge. I hadn't felt like this since Romania. I liked turning back to me again.

But it was still light out. I couldn't hunt now. I could stalk though. Find someone nice. Or maybe not so nice. I could find someone bad. Someone very bad. Oh I could have so much fun…

I gently laughed as I entertained in the idea of finding a whole biker gang. Or maybe just a bunch of high school dropouts. That would be fun. At this point, anything would.

I started towards the center of town. I knew they would be able to see me. At least one of them would. She would tell him, of course. They share everything. Or do they? Maybe he hasn't been as forthcoming about his past as I presumed. Maybe he hasn't told all of them but he must have told Alice. She wouldn't judge him. And he would know if she did.

I took long and precise steps as I watched the stores open as the day got darker. A drizzle started up and I quickly pushed my way inside a bar. It was empty of people. I've heard that humans don't like the idea of drinking before noon. Suited me fine. I could hide out here for a while. I pulled off my beret and threw it in the bin. It wasn't made to get wet.

As I closed in on the counter, I took off the hair band and shook my hair out in a delicate mess of curls.

"What will it be?" asked the bartender as he came up to me from behind the bar.

"What do you recommend?" I responded in a playful tone. He chuckled and leaned back.

"Well that depends."

"On what?"

"On how much you need a drink at eleven in the morning."

"What are your views on drowning ones depression in alcohol?"

"It has always helped me." I snickered and he pulled up a shot of tequila. I could smell it from miles away. It did the most delicious things to the blood.

"To be honest, I was only trying to escape the rain."

"Well then," he said before putting the drink to his mouth and forcing the liquid down his throat.

"Drinking on the job. Is that a requirement?"

"It is when there is no one around to entertain you. Or when someone refuses a free drink." He smirked at me before putting the glass away.

"I see." I unbuttoned my jacket all the while he rudely couldn't stop staring. I cocked my head to the side.

"If you stare any longer I will have to charge a fee." He laughed and scratched the back of his neck.

"I don't mean to be rude but you are very beautiful."

"How is that rude?" I cock my head to the side, biting my bottom lip while coyly smirking at him.

"Most girls think it's just a pickup line."

"Isn't it?"

"Well yeah, but…. In this case it is very true." I chuckled.

"Well thank you for saying so."

"No problem," he said while looking deeply into my eyes. I adverted my gaze as to play shy but I had him right where I wanted.

"Are you just visiting or do you live here?" I shrug my shoulders.

"Just visiting. I'm trying to find a friend of mine."

"Been friends for a while?"

"You could say that."

"How come you can't call or email?"

"I don't have the number. And we didn't exactly leave on the best of terms. In the end we were practically trying to kill each other." Less practically than actually.

"Sometimes friends need time to cool off from each other."

"That is exactly my point."

"But if you want my advice…"

"I might if it's good."

"I wouldn't linger for too long here."

"No?"

"It's dark and rains almost every day. Or at least that's what it feels like. But then again, you don't look like you lounge every day on the beach. And that's a compliment. A lot better than the orange spray-on shit they sell here." I gently laughed while absently running my left hand through my hair.

I entertained in the thought of how I would kill this one. I could simply leap over the counter, drag my nails across his throat and suck him dry. I could lure him into it; make him think he wants it. I could tell him the truth and watch the disbelief and fear spread through his body.

I started to imagine it in great detail. I would lean forward and grab his wrist, feeling the thud of a steady but increasing blood flow. He would ask what I was doing. I wouldn't reply but simply smile sweetly. He wouldn't know what to think. He would be far too mesmerized.

That's our greatest asset. To basically petrify our prey. Humans are weak when it comes to anything physical. A beautiful woman can make any man forget his name.

I would rub my thumb over his artery and gently run my nail over it, piercing the skin. He would jerk back, watching the wound. I would apologize and ask to have a closer look. He would oblige. He has no other say or will at this point. As he gives me his hand, I will wipe up the drop and draw my thumb to my lips.

I am interrupted in my daydreaming by a shrilling sound. After blinking and removing my gaze, the man shakes his head, coming out of the trance. I gently smirk as I reach for my phone.

Caller unknown.

I drag my thumb down to answer and hold the device up to my ear.

"Hello?"

"You've made your point." I knew that voice. And while I was caught off guard with the fact that he knew my phone number – one which I don't give out lightly – I crushed my surprise for the time being.

"I don't know what you are talking about."

"Sure you do… What are you doing here?" I caught the eavesdropping gaze of the bartender. I gave him a strong and cold look. He quickly looked down and hurried to the storage area behind the bar.

"Clouds every day. It's paradise. Why wouldn't I be here?"

"There are countless other places you can go."

"Yeah but I like it here."

"You hate the rain."

"I don't hate it. I have a strong dislike for it. Completely different." The bartender came out of the storage with a box. He started unloading while glancing my way with curious eyes.

"He knows what you are." I knew he expected me to be more surprised. But my days of that were long behind me.

"So? He doesn't have much time left." His body tensed and his hands started to shake.

It was quiet for a few seconds as Edward took a deep breath. "Don't do it."

"Why not? He's just a human."

"Please?"

"Please? That's your reason?"

"I don't have much experience speaking to someone who's psychotic."

"Oh wow. That's clever. Forgive me for not mustering up real amusement for such a pathetic attempt at a joke." I straightened up. "But since you asked so nicely." I hung up and got off the stool, making my way around the bar. I caught the bartender as he was about to enter the storage area again. I held his gaze until I knew he was not mentally there anymore.

"You opened later than usual today. You never saw me. Understood?" He nodded. "Say you understand."

"I understand."

"Lovely." I smiled and the next second, I had my jacket, pushed it over my shoulders and was outside – all before he had a chance to blink.

I took a deep breath and pushed my hands into my jacket before walking down the street. The drizzle was completely ruining my meticulously tousled hair and making it naturally straight.

The scent went down the street before abruptly turning right. I played along but my patience was wearing thin. As I came to a crossing, the noises of passersby diminished and I knew I was beyond their sight. I sighed in annoyance and cracked my neck before something to my left brought my attention back.

"What a dramatic entrance," I noted and turned my body towards him. "Shouldn't you be in school?" Edward rolled his eyes and took a few steps towards me.

"What are you doing here?"

"Saying hello."

"Don't play games Bella."

"I'm not. It would be rude not to introduce myself."

"I would really like it if you left."

"Aww… and you think I care whether you like something or not? I go where I please."

"If I have to… I'll drag you out of town." I laughed.

"I would love to see you try."

"I didn't say I would do it by myself." I listened tighter but I couldn't hear anyone else in the closest proximity.

"I see… and since I'm so unreliable… they let you come here all by your lonesome? That's not very brotherly, is it?"

"They don't know I'm here and it's going to stay that way."

"So it would really mess with shit if I were to pay everyone a visit-" I didn't have time to finish my sentence before he had me crushed against the bricks, pinning me there. He had a tight grip but let's get one thing clear… I am much stronger than he ever will be. The animal blood is survival at the lowest point. None of them will reach their fullest potential living like that.

"Don't even think about it," he hissed at me. I narrowed my eyes and strongly removed him with one hard push in the center of his chest. He backed off and I pushed away from the crumbling bricks, feeling the tear at my back.

"Do you really want to start something? It may be petty but I really liked this jacket. It's Gucci."

"Don't threaten my family."

"I wasn't-" I took a deep breath. "Whatever. Don't worry," I mocked. "I won't linger too long. Your precious _family_ will be safe from the big bad vampire." I rolled my eyes and turned, starting to walk away from him.

"Where are you going?" he said, keeping up easily.

"I thought you wanted me gone."

"Just like that?"

"I didn't mean from town. I'm not done here yet." I still have to see all of you for proof. Maybe I should tell him. But then he would be mad. And someone, somewhere would get killed. I could never be sure it wouldn't be me.

"What is it you want?"

"If I told you that, it would all be too easy." We came down the road I was originally on. Cars flew by as people scurried form one place to another, desperate to avoid the rain even if they were carrying an umbrella. I stopped walking long enough to see their faces of disgust and huffed.

"What?"

"Don't you ever tire of their never-ending pettiness? The fact that even when they're supposedly grown up, they still act like children."

"How are we any different?" I rolled my eyes but this was one argument I could not win.

"They're weak. It's unnatural that we should hide because we're superior to them."

"That's not why and you know it." I rolled my eyes again. "And stop acting so-" I stopped listening to him as I heard the familiar sounds of screeching tires. The cars came towards each other as if in slow motion. I saw the metal crumble beneath the pressure like aluminum foil. The light went out immediately. The hoods were completely smashed. It was a full frontal crash. And one person wasn't wearing his seatbelt.

A tubby man came crashing out of the windshield like rag doll, toppling down the hood and onto the asphalt. The other car lifted slightly at the end before coming down to the ground. I heard three heart beats inside, all alarmed but none reducing to a flat-line.

The man on the ground was dead. His neck broken. Two bones had popped out and a deep burgundy pile of blood was spilling beneath his body. I watched the liquid with hungry eyes.

But I never approached. The scent was nowhere. The rain washed it away and I could withstand the power of the sight of blood.

But Edward couldn't. His body had tensed. His gaze was fixed. I went to grab his arm. He growled silently. I kept a steady grip while quickly looking around to see if anyone was paying attention. They weren't.

I crashed my left knee into his ribs and his breath was knocked out. I turned us both around and we crashed into a nearby wall, away from the screaming humans. I continued to push him away, slowly starting to see reason return in his eyes. I let go only when I was sure he wouldn't charge.

"Why did you just do that?" he asked in a suspicious tone.

"Excuse me? I just saved your life. _Again_. You could at least thank me."

He rolled his eyes and turned away for a second before looking back at me. "How did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Just walk away. Like it was nothing."

"It was nothing. There was no scent. I felt no need to feed. Your diet will kill you, you know." He still looked suspicious. "I can control myself."

We stood silent for a moment before I sighed heavily.

"Look, I'm gonna take off."

"To where?"

"Relax. I'm bored, not an idiot. I think I'm going to see a movie."

"A movie?" Edward looked at me like I had gone insane.

"Yeah. I have countless hours, days, weeks and years to kill. Might as well start with something as mundane and _human_ as watching a movie." I smirked. "You're welcome to join me, if you want."

"I think I'll pass."

"Right. Gotta head back. If you run, maybe you'll still make P.E," I yelled behind me as I started to make my way forward.

"Wait," Edward called and was instantly by my side. I turned with an impatient look on my face and a cocked brow.

"Yes?"

"I might not get you to leave… but you won't hunt inside the city."

"Oh no?"

"I don't care what you do. I don't care if you starve. If one human dies or disappears… you will regret it." My face darkened and I was about to say something when he disappeared. I grumbled.

"People run away all the time! It's not always me!" The frown deepened and I moved away, wanting to kill a few hours before looking for food. I didn't care about his warning. I was stronger and could take him anytime. But I didn't need the attention from neither humans nor vampires.

I stole a credit card – yes, I stole. It wasn't that hard. Most people don't watch their bags as they eat. The girl was barely out of her teens and already had a five carat platinum ring on her finger. Trophy wife, of course. They would never miss a few thousand.

I also stole a Beemer SUV. I needed a hospital and I couldn't have traces of me ever staying in this town to be discovered. I drove for just over an hour and carefully pulled into a vacant spot near the back of a ten story hospital.

The bright fluorescent lights would make my eyes too prominent and my skin too glassy. I removed my torn jacket and reached into the inside pocket for a pair of contacts.

The lenses felt unnatural and produced a fine layer of mist. I could see just as well as before but it was an annoyance none the less. I shook the last traces of water out of my hair and pulled it back in a tight ponytail.

I took precise steps as I neared the entrance. Metal detectors and guards stood just inside the lobby. I tried to hide my smirk of irony as I laid my cell phone and car key in the plastic basket before walking through the detector. No beep, of course. I've never set one off before and never will.

I proceeded to a chart of the hospital. Blood bank was nowhere to be seen. I pursed my lips and thought about asking at the closest desk. But a nurse in dark pink scrubs came walking around the corner and made it so easy. I gently but forcefully grabbed her wrist and stared into her eyes with a gentle smile.

"Where do you keep the blood?" she stuttered for a moment before answering in a drowsy tone.

"Third floor."

"Thank you," I said in the softest and gentlest tone before releasing her and disappearing to an elevator. I saw the nurse shake her head before looking around, wondering if she'd just imagined the whole thing.

I stepped out of the lift and stood in the middle of a corridor. I surveyed the hallways both to my right and left. There weren't many people up here. I started down to my left, walking cautiously as a doctor came sprinting by me. The stench of bleach and countless chemicals made my nose crinkle.

As I came to an end of doors, I took a deep breath and tried to find a speck of blood in mixture with the chemicals. The delicious aroma came slowly toward me. My eyes flashed open and I started walking faster until I came to a locked door with a combination for entrance. I took the knob and crushed it; letting myself in.

Rows upon rows of blood hung and lay before me. I caught the sight of a messenger bag. After emptying the contents on the floor, I started pulling bags. The messenger bag filled quickly.

The shrill of a whistle alarmed me and I couldn't get out without the human noticing. I stood upright and moved to the far back of the shelves. The human strolled in but stopped at the sight of the discarded items on the floor.

I rolled my eyes at my own stupidity. There was no time for this.

The human's heart started beating more profoundly. I couldn't hear anything but the irregular thump. If he left, he would get someone else and then I'd have to kill two. That would be critically noticeable.

To my next notion, he gasped at the decrease of blood bags. I saw him scramble to the phone, lifting the receiver and speaking rapidly into it.

"I need sec-" I flashed to his side and disconnected the call, throwing the phone across the room.

"Why couldn't you have stayed away another minute?" I asked in an annoyed voice. The man started to sweat. His gaze drove down to my – his – messenger bag. I knew he saw the blood. His eyes shot back up at me.

"Why would you steal blood?" he whispered, pressing himself to the desk.

"It's better than killing people for it, don't you think?" I dropped the bag and grabbed the guy's shirt, flinging him across the room as well. He fell with a thud on the floor but still very much conscious. But the damage was already done. In trying to protect himself, the guy had held his hand behind him. After crashing into a cabinet, the glass shards on the floor had pierced his skin.

Blood was everywhere. I knew my eyes had darkened, he saw it himself. I couldn't stop myself now. I needed it.

Before physically aware of it, I was on my knees, pushing my teeth deeper and deeper into the man's shoulder. His voice gurgled but I barely paid an attention to that. The liquid flowed easy down my throat. I greedily swallowed until there was nothing more.

The man dropped like a sack and it was first then I saw the mess I had made. The floor was covered in blood smears. My hands were red, as were the front of my pants. I could feel a drop slip down my yaw and land on my previously clean shirt.

I stood up, feeling the crunch of glass fragments underneath my shoes. I grabbed a long shard and started stabbing the man. I slashed his throat as well and once against stood up to admire my work. It wasn't bad. But it was mess. Too messy. But I was over an hour away from town. No one would look too closely. I hoped.

I grabbed the messenger bag again and hung it off my left shoulder before leaving the room quickly. I walked down the hallways with my head bowed and watched out the windows until I saw the Beemer. Pushing the window open, I jumped to the ledge and sat for a few moments in a crouch, waiting for humans to pass on the ground.

As I was about to jump; out of the elevator, a family of two parents and a small child came. The child spotted me right away. I smiled and held a finger to my lips before plunging out.

The drop seemed endless but eventually my feet touched the ground, my knees sinking down in an automatic crouch. I clutch the bag tightly to my chest, fearing the plastic baggies might tear and spill blood everywhere. The lot is empty as I move towards the Beemer. Thrusting the messenger bag into the back seat, I vow my way into the front and begun my way back to the small town.

* * *

**AN: It's been a while, I know. But I thought I'd take a break over the summer. However, summer never really got here so I probably should have been in here, writing, rewriting and endlessly change details I set up before I even started posing chapters. As long as everything comes together in the end, I'm fine with the in-between.  
**

**Oh and I would love to know what you guys think of my latest words... **


	10. The Great Pleasure In Life

"_The great pleasure in life is doing what people say you cannot do"_

As the rain returned and became heavier, I had never been happier about foreclosures. After dumping the Beemer somewhere off the highway, I searched for exactly twenty minutes and fifty-six second before stumbling upon the latest failure in American economy.

It was nice enough. Not something I would ever resident in for a longer period of time, though nothing ever seemed to be in that category. But it was distant, closed off from the rest of the neighborhood and I liked the forest just ten feet beyond the small backyard.

It was… darling. And that is in no way meant to be a compliment. Small square bright canary yellow with a conservatory at the back. I've always failed to see the appeal of living in a suburban neighborhood.

It only took me two seconds to assess the house as I shot my way inside, closing the door tightly. I shook my hair free of excess water and cursed the rain. I walked in human pace to the kitchen, finding it impeccably neat. Every speck of food had been cleaned out. Opening the fridge bought out a thin foul smell, something humans probably wouldn't detect if they didn't stick their nose in there for a longer period of time. I placed the blood bags on the see-through plastic shelves and turned on the box to 6ºC.

Thunder echoed from above me. The whole house trembled with a close impact. I frowned at the dramatics and made my way up the stairs. Three bedrooms and one bath. This much have been a hectic household in the morning.

I put the duffle bag down in the master bedroom, along with the purchases I made during the day before the wretched weather appeared out of nowhere. Endless choices of t-shirts, tops, jeans, shoes and jackets to last me most of the winter if I end up in a place where the charade needs to be upheld.

But first thing; the rain had done horrible and unnatural things to my hair. I'm vein enough to say I mind looking like a wet rat. I'm glad I thought of towels. A shower would be very nice and… _normal_.

The water – which I'm sure is hot since the steam billowed around the room like cloud – felt nothing against my diamond skin. Of course I _felt_ it; ever single microscopic dot that is, but as for heat or cold, I felt nothing. It was always the same ordeal every time I took a shower or a bath. It felt abnormal, foreign; like I was doing something wrong. Which – in all fairness – I was. I could easily live with dirt underneath my fingernails, my hair tousled from nature's attacks. I could easily stay immobile for the rest of my eternity underneath a rock. But just because you can, doesn't mean you should.

I scraped off the last remnants of blood under and above my fingernails. I washed my face free of make-up and drew up short when I found a twig embedded in my hair. When did that happen?

I shut the water off and grabbed for the towels, wrapping myself tightly. A bolt of lightning shot across the sky, illuminating the room like a Christmas light. I blinked against the strings in the clouds before coming up to the four-poster bed and started rummaging through the garments.

I dropped the towel – droplets running down my spine, flashing a tingle through my body – and pulled on a white cropped t-shirt which dropped low on the right shoulder. The thing pulled back in a twist in the middle of my spine, showing off my impeccably small waist and back dimples. After pushing on dark skinny jeans I sit down and admired my new choice of footwear. Beige golden-studded faux suede wedge ankle boots. 1 inch pump, 3 inch heel. PVC smell everywhere.

I'm a shoe whore.

I dried and fixed my hair in record time. The long and delicate curls reached the middle of my back. But as I was placing each strand of hair in just the perfect OCD way, my whole body tensed. Approaching steps. I let go of my hair and walked into the empty kitchen.

The footsteps stopped and I cranked my ears for a better listen but there was nothing. The rain was still pouring down heavily and I was not about to walk outside and mess myself up again.

I walked slowly to the conservatory and opened the door. If I hadn't been a vampire, I would not have been able to hear anything but the constant pounding of drops on the plastic roof. Lightning lit the sky once more and five seconds later came a stone breaking thunder. I narrowed my eyes, looking into and through the forest, trying to find a shape that wasn't a squirrel.

I sighed with impatience and turned back to the main house when I heard the same footsteps wandering around upstairs. The next second I was back inside, the conservatory door closed. I found an open window in the living room. The wind ruffled the curtains while the rain soaked them into see-throughness. My gaze shot upstairs where I could no longer hear any steps but I still felt another presence. The scent was everywhere. Sweet.

"Why play such games?" I asked in a calm tone, though feeling anything but while slowly walking up the stairs. There was no response. "I have very little patience. Let's not waste it all in one go." I came around the corner to find the bedroom empty. The clothes still lay in rumbled disarray next to my open duffle bag.

Open duffle bag?

I cocked my head to the side and flashed to the bag, turning it upside down, trying to determine if anything's missing. Finding the only thing worth saving, I clutch the delicate necklace in my hand before quickly securing it around my throat.

I scattered through the remaining items but found my ancient sketchbook to be gone. In that second, the vampire was downstairs. I found it truly annoying and befuddling that it was so easily overpowering me.

Precise steps took me to the top of the staircase. I slowly – slower than a human – crept down the stairs, my mind swirling around for any possibly clue as to who was interrupting my… whatever it is that I was about to do.

I come down the stairs and turn towards the living room. As soon as I do, I finally see my intruder. I relax at the sight, feeling silly and a bit annoyed.

I watched the pixie figure run through the pictures like the average magazine. Narrowing my eyes, I cock my brow and lean on one leg for the support that I don't need.

"Can I help you with something?"

"These are very good," she said whilst ignoring my first statement, never looking up from the book.

She is much shorter than I pictured. But not enough to not know she wasn't a child anymore. I must have a foot on her in these shoes. If she had been human she would have done well as an actor. Could have played a high-schooler well into her forties.

"Of course they are." I flashed forward to grab the sketches' but she moved to the left too fast. I quickly gave up as I wasn't in the mood to fight with someone I couldn't win over. Alice shut the book and silently handed it to me. I snatched it away, bringing it down to my side in a tight grip.

"Are they all of places you've been?" I glanced down at the book before quickly catching her gaze again.

"How much did you see?"

"About half." Then she hadn't seen the last frames. Good.

"Pretty much."

"What's in the back?" She catches on quick.

"Nothing you'll ever see."

"Is is personal?"

"Personal enough that I'll fight you for it." She raised her hands and took a step back, looking amused. I was only partly joking.

"Jeez. I'm just asking." She took a seat on the couch, never loosing eye contact. I sit down as well in the chair closest to the kitchen. "You don't even come close to how I pictured you."

"Not sure how to respond to that," I say, putting the book down at my side, leaning it against the chair.

"Just an observation," she replies and then the room is quiet. The both of us say nothing for a long time – at least it felt long. I'm waiting for her to say anything to indicate what she's doing here but obviously, I'll have to break the silence.

"What are you doing here, Alice?" She sits quietly for a moment before speaking.

"I wanted to meet you. I always wondered why he never talks about you. Sitting here, I really can't understand." I snort/chuckle and bite my lip but it doesn't stop the smirk.

"It is disturbingly apparent that you don't know me." Alice's expression turns lighter.

"How articulate."

"I have my moments."

"Do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"No."

"What are you doing here?" I shrug.

"I like it here."

"Edward said you hate the rain."

"Did he?"

"I don't think he meant for me to hear."

"Eavesdropping is a filthy habit," I chastised though not giving a shit either way.

"I want to know if you have an ulterior motive." I smirk lightly.

"I always have an ulterior motive. But it's best not to dwell on it. Play with fire and you get burned." Alice face is impassive.

"You can't hurt me," she says with confidence. My smirk returns.

"No? Then how about Jasper?" Alice eyes flashes. "He doesn't have the best self-control does he? It would be awful if someone were to completely ruin that limited control, now wouldn't it?" I see how the tips of her lips want to pull back in a snarl. I don't blame her. It was a low blow. However, I have no intention of ruining their secret. "I bet it would hurt you more than him."

"Is this how you do it?" She asks, catching me off guard. Her voice is cut but calm. Calmer than I would have thought.

"Do what?"

"Push people away? By making threats that wouldn't just get us exposed but you as well."

"Maybe." I decide to be honest. "But it's none of your business how I run my life."

"I've never claimed it is." I sigh, standing up while pulling out a coin from my front pocket. It's a Lira I swiped from Fontana di Trevi ten years ago. It's still dirty from lying in the water over forty years. I flip the coin mercilessly between the fingers of my left hand, away from prying eyes.

"Forgive me. I haven't had to deal with one of you for ten years. I don't like to be judged." Alice watched me, her face going from appreciation to curiosity in less than three seconds.

"Ten years?" I lean on one leg, flipping the coin harder behind me.

"Yes?"

"Have you met the Denali family?" I frown

"No. Should I?"

"They're the only other vampires that live the way we do. That we know of." I smirk.

"He didn't tell you? Naughty boy." I 'tsk' before continuing. "He found me in the mid nineties, casually strolling through Glasgow."

"He found you?" I nod.

"I'm not surprised he didn't say anything. I guess if I was a born-again goody goody, I wouldn't want my _family_ to think of me in such a way, either." She looks away for a moment.

"Why would he go to you and not us?"

"For one thing," I started while leaning my elbows on the back of the chair looking pointedly at her, "I could give him something none of you ever can and secondly… have you ever thought about the fact that maybe he can talk easier with me than any of you?" Alice looks at me, seeing I'm not trying to screw with her again.

"Is it that bad?" she whispers to herself.

"No," I say even though I know she wasn't looking for an answer. "Not to me. I don't judge him. And even if I did, he would never know it." Alice raises her head in wonder. "He can't read me." She immediately understands and frowns, probably trying to understand. "Maybe you aren't as close as you think." I have to bite the inside of my cheek so I wouldn't smile.

This would most definitely pull a tear in their little family but he brought this on himself. I have to find some other amusement if I can't hunt. Wait…. He said I couldn't kill anyone. He never said anything about _socializing_. I turn the thought away for now but it's juggling away with possibilities in the back of my mind.

"Was this your plan? To try to break up our family?" Would it really be so bad? You can still see each other just not on a daily basis. Did they never think that other people might be watching them?

"I don't have an agenda, Alice." She stands up.

"Can I ask another thing?"

"Why not." I wave my hand dismissingly.

"How long were you two together?" The question catches me off guard. I think about it for a moment before speaking.

"Why are you asking _me_ this?"

"Because he won't tell me." She sounds tremendously annoyed by this. "And I know it's beyond the regular… interaction." I almost laughed. Regular interaction. Classic…

"Five years." She looks truly surprised. It's obvious that's not something she cares for.

"Five years? It's nothing compared to eternity but still… five years. And he never says anything?"

"Yeah well that's not for me to wonder." I look into my hands, the coin still in-between, turning around so fast it almost looks like an orb.

"I just have one last question before I leave." I gaze up, following her as she walks about the room.

"Shoot." I partly smirk. I needed this to wrap up. I needed to do something and if did it while she was here… then I think he might just try and kill me. Why does that make me giddy?

"Why are you like this?"

I cock my head to the side, the muscles beneath my right eye twitch. "Like what?"

"A bitch." I smirk, pushing my arms off the chair and shoving the coin back into my pocket.

"Because I can," I say, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "You don't get to live for as long as I have because you're Martha-fucking-Stewart. You can't stand up for yourself if people think you're going to roll over the minute shit gets tough. I've been around for a long time Alice…. I'm bored and if I have to be a bitch to make this fucking state of nonexistence versus barely there even remotely interesting…. then that's what I'm going to do."

Alice is observing me with cautious eyes. It's quiet again but it's short-lived.

"That's sad," she said, her tone filled with pity. I huff.

"Well everyone can't live like you now can we?" Her posture straightens up and she takes a step back, seeming alert to something I wasn't.

"For what it's worth… I'm glad I met you." Then she was gone.

Waiting until I can no longer hear her footsteps, I leave the living room, making a beeline for the kitchen.

Tearing open the fridge door, I grip a blood bag in my hand. The red liquid looks disgusting. It's sterile and without a host. Do other vampires actually drink this for a longer period?

I closed the door, slowly walking across the room, coming to a halt at one of the large – almost – floor-to-ceiling windows. I watch the weather go even further south before pulling out a left-behind yellow mug. I stood in front of the table, watching the outside again as I quickly tear the top of the bag. I refused to look at it until it is all emptied into the mug. I lay the bag down on the table and bring the glass up to be viewed.

I continued to hold my breath, simply watching the contents, feeling the urge to do something… anything. But I freeze my limbs, intent on simply watching for now. The blood is mesmerizing. Deep burgundy color. Texture that's smoother than silk… I assumed. And right in front of me. I wanted it. So bad. And I feasted this afternoon. I needed to get a better grip. I couldn't be this hung up on one small glass of blood.

Taking it very slowly… I took a quick sniff.

There's tightness in my chest. An ache in my throat. The venom burns in my veins, begging for me to make a move. I forced my gaze up to the ceiling, still holding the mug but it was almost too tight. If my thumb pressed more tightly, it would explode all over me.

I closed my eyes and put the mug on the table, resting my hands next to me, freezing my limbs all over again. The scent was till inside me. I could feel it running through my dead veins and poison my lunges.

After the initial high had gone down, I allowed myself to open my eyes. But I didn't look down. I stared intently at the ceiling, focusing only on one small tear in the wood as I opened my mouth again.

The scent it everywhere. I close my eyes but don't stop breathing. Now it almost smells good in the way humans gush over how delicious their newly cooked food smells. I force myself to breath regularly but it's harder now. My breathing becomes more irregular. Soon I'm panting. My body is shaking. I feel my gaze go down slowly, drinking in the sight before me.

A glass of deep red blood is sitting in front of me, begging me to take a sip. I'm full but I want more. I want the blood.

But I don't need it.

Taking the mug, I walk over to the sink and pour it out, letting the water flow for several minutes before I turn it off. I brace myself against the counter, panting like a crazy person. The scent is still in the air but at least now it's controllable.

I'm still not sure I believe I just poured out blood. Good blood. Blood I would eventually need if I decided to stay here longer, which I knew I wouldn't but I don't set up anything in advance. I knew of the repercussions' if I wasn't prepared for everything.

Taking both hands and rubbing them over my face, I find some clarity. I threw out the bag. Such small drops held nothing on me. Getting back to the living room I pass a mirror. As I do, I'm immediately halted by the figure looking back at me.

My eyes are as dark as they can become. Even after minutes of free thoughts and a clear mind. I touch the place just beneath my eyes. The skin is as smooth as ever. I know the high will disappear soon enough. But this is the first time on a very long while that I don't feel like myself.

I've always prided myself to be different than other vampires. Some can't ever handle the smell of humans. But now… seeing my dead and soulless eyes, I feel no different than those savages.

The rain stops around midnight. The smell is everywhere but it's one I've always found quite enjoyable. Though it is much better in the summer. Not as piercing.

The temperature drops to just above freezing. I see the frost creep up the windows, wanting to make way inside but finding no place to penetrate.

I pull my gaze back down to my sketchbook. This is one of my many ways to pass the time, especially during "sleeping" hours. I watch the half-finished drawing of the gothic apartment complex across the street from where I was living. I remember exactly how it looks; every discrete detail is forever embedded into my memory. I could finish it here so I wouldn't have this nagging feeling of incompletion pressing against my hands.

But I won't.

I liked sitting on the dingy balcony, my head moving up and down to catch the subtle tints. It's the one thing I liked to do in human speed with precession. It gives me a false sense of comfort that I always have somewhere to go.

I don't draw every place I've ever been to. Only whenever there's something particularly interest which catches my devoted attention. I rest my elbow on the back of the couch, simultaneously putting my head into my open hand.

Absentmindedly playing with a few tendrils while flipping though my past, I come to the last page. I stare at it for a long time with these strange and foreign emotions inside me. Guilt and remorse. But of course I will never admit to them openly.

The drawing is exceedingly life-like. Back then people painted too dramatically. The men were always accurate. Not completely white but still pale complexion. Hair in all shapes and colors. Faces not too un-proportional. Is that a real word? But the women… all their faces long and solemn. They're there but not.

I close the book with a thump and stand up quickly, flashing up to the second level where I shove the book deepest down my bag, pushing every other piece on top. I'm breathing hard… closing my eyes to rid myself of the haunting.

This is another time I wish alcohol would have an effect on me like it seems to have on humans. I wouldn't even mind the hangover that comes along. It would be nice to know what a real headache feels like.

Calming down, I pace slowly around the house, while scrolling through my phone simultaneously, searching for the last received call. I press send and hold the receiver up to my ear.

The tone goes on six times before a beep can be heard. I hang up and redial. I know he's avoiding me and I don't like it. My annoyance grows stronger as I hang up for the fifth time. Pressing send one last time – before finding this game boring and going into town to draw him or possibly all of them out – I grab my jacket, awkwardly shrugging it on as the line gets picked up.

"Your silence is making me nervous," I start, picking at my hair even though it already is impeccably messy. "I feel as if you're avoiding me."

"That was a low blow, _Isabella-Marie_." My anger flare.

"Was it? It just came so easy. I couldn't help myself. And don't fucking call me that!"

"You shouldn't tell people you don't want to be called a certain name. It only makes them want to call you it that much more." I could hear he was smiling. But his next words were serious. "Just tell me what you're doing here Bella." I hesitated. In one end, I could tell him. But then he'd know and ultimately do something that would get him killed. Who'd I find the time to annoy then? And he'd be thoroughly pissed at me for agreeing to such a thing. Or would he? He is well aware of my intentions towards, well, anything. Somewhere he'd probably see it coming.

No… he'd be surprised. And pissed. He'd never speak to me again. I'm not sure why by that bothered me.

On the other hand… I could play this along to see where it ended. No doubt either choice would lead me to Volterra. I can barely contain a shudder at the thought. My memories are mine to do as I pleased. They are not for him to pick apart like a science project.

"Trust me Edward, when I'm up to something, you'll know it." I heard the low huff but said nothing; instead bit my lip, waiting for him to continue.

"I saw what you did to the diner."

"Saw?"

"It's all over the news."

"I see."

"You shouldn't take such unnecessary risks."

"Sounds like you actually care, Edward."

"Don't flatter yourself."

"Oh it's way too late for that," I chuckled, sitting down and leaning against the headboard. I picked my legs up and crossed them at the ankles. "I'm a little disappointed."

"About what?"

"I was sure you'd shoot across town to kill me for the way I spoke earlier."

"Alice can take care of herself."

"I have no doubt, but you've always had a short fuse when it comes to that family of yours." I touched the base of my neck in remembrance.

"It almost sounds as if you want me to kill you."

"What can I say, I like you that way."

"Pissed off?"

"Mmhm…"

"Any particular reason."

"Because seeing you so clean and composed and always, always have the right words… it's annoying. But when that perfectly put-together face breaks, there's a real person under there. You're not perfect. You shouldn't fool others in thinking that you are."

"I don't-"

"Oh please! Don't act like you don't love the pedestal they've put you on." It was quiet for several minutes before he spoke again.

"Is it wrong for me not to want my family to see me in the way that…"

"That what?"

"That you did." I know my face resemblance one of deep shock. I'm not sure I'm offended or amused at his reasoning.

"The way I did?" My voice mad, I stood up, pacing delicately around the room, calculating. "And what the fuck is that supposed to mean? All of the sudden you're that much better than me? Don't kid yourself into thinking your lot is any better than me just because you don't have the gut to act your kind. And I don't give a shit if they hear this or not…" I stop my rant, not getting through what I really thought.

"They're not here," he said quietly, completely ignoring everything else I've said. Now that he mentioned it, I could hear the wind and water. It wasn't raining anymore so he'd have to be close to a river.

"That's all you have to say? I always knew you thought yourself better than everyone else but I didn't think you'd be a coward about it."

"Bella just listen-"

"Go fuck yourself." I hang up, fuming. I feel the metal crush and pulverize in my hand but I barely register the dust flying onto the carpet. In hindsight I might have overreacted just a tad but it wasn't far from the truth.

"Shit!"

Taking deep and not-so-calming breaths, I run my hand through my hair, freezing midway. The heavy thump of the base was close to shaking the foundation of the house. I slowly let go of my hair and went into a bedroom which showed the front lawn. Three doors down on the other side of the road, cars were pulling up and people were running inside, screaming and laughing all at the same time.

I thought about it for exactly six seconds and then I was out the house, walking with easy steps across the humanly slippery road. The path was badly salted and I saw how the rest struggled with the unsteady ground. Passing them quickly, I took light steps up the porch before stepping into the brightly lit hallway. The front door stood ajar with people bringing in kegs faster than the wind was blowing.

The walls were vibrating. But I wasn't sure if it was from the bass or people jumping up and down like children at Disney World. Arms and various body parts flew around with the beat.

I stalked against the walls, looking. There was an itch beneath my fingernails. It had taken me some time to refrain from taking out my frustration on the closest human when faced with an irritating object that continuously pissed me off. But even so, my mind wandered on all the different ways I could slaughter these fragile dolls.

If I worked fast enough, I could take them all out without a scream. They wouldn't even understand what was happening until they saw the blood. But since I couldn't have them all – I can't drink till eternity, there is a limit – I would have to break their little necks, one snap after another. Or perhaps paralyze them from the waist down. Hopefully they would still be conscious to comprehend my actions.

I don't realize I'm smirking until a guy with short black hair in jeans and a t-shirt comes up to me.

"Hi," he says.

"Hey yourself," I reply, leaning against the wall, accessing him discretely. He's darker than most other humans I've seen here. There's a not completely unpleasant odor beneath his shampoo and soap smell which indicates he spray-tan. Vein much?

He's almost crossing the line with the hair-spray and wax. His clothes are ridiculously expensive, they kind you don't buy unless you want people to know you're rich. You can buy the latest DG and still look homeless.

Vein and shallowness aside, he's not bad to look at. I smile at him, making sure he's right where I want him; eating out of the palm of my hand.

"Are you crashing this party?" He asks, smirking at me. I bit my bottom lip.

"Maybe I was invited."

"I invited everyone at my school and you, do not attend."

"So this is your house?"

"Guilty."

"It's ostentatious."

"Yeah," he nodded, looking about the room before coming back to me. "You didn't answer my question."

"Am I crashing the party? I suppose I am. But either way, I could be someone's plus one or whatever."

"No, I know just about everyone in this town and if I ever saw you before, I would have remembered."

"Are you flirting with me?" He takes a sip of his drink, nodding absentmindedly.

"Trying to, more likely. I must not be doing such a good job if you have to ask." I shake my head.

"Just making sure." I giggle, groaning mentally. I hate people who giggle and _I_ hate to giggle. It's so… bubble gum sweet. I am not bubble gum sweet.

"Wanna go somewhere not so-"

"Crowded?"

"I was going to say loud but okay."

"Okay."

While being escorted through the house and up one flight of stairs, I wondered idly if this usually works on girls. He seemed surprised when I agreed.

Opening a pair of oak double doors, I stepped into an office that looked like it could belong to someone of equal importance and power. Almost every wall was filled with build-in dark woodened bookcases. Leather-bound first editions stood behind glass with an old-fashioned lock while other unimportant works of fiction and biography waited freely to be picked up by any intruder or owner.

Three Persian rugs strewn over the dark hardwood floor, pinned down by a green leather couch and an ostentatious desk that's supposedly meant for two but fitted only on chair. A new HP computer with just a screen, mouse and keyboard sat towards the right side. Except the expensive toy; a phone with too many buttons and a dark green glass lamp were the only other items on the desk.

I took attentive steps towards the desk, looking out the window. With the moon as only source of light, it was as if looking into daylight. The door closes and the lock is turned. I smirk, deciding to have some fun before the fun.

"Nice office," I say conversationally, turning towards him.

"It's my dad's." I raise my brow, acting as if surprised.

"Taking girls to your father's study… seems like suppressed anger to me." He opens and closes his mouth a few times before speaking.

"Its not- I mean… I didn't- I wasn't-" He stop, seeming unsure. I raise one brow.

"Want to try that again?" I love making people squirm.

"It wasn't intentional. I mean it was but… no one comes in here, ever." I raise my brow higher. "I did say we should go somewhere quieter."

"You did."

"But I didn't mean to presume…" He sighed. "This isn't going so good. Could we start over?" I pretend to think about it and huffed in amusement as he reached out his right hand. I took it lightly. "Hi."

"Hi." He immediately notices the difference in temperature, or lack thereof. I drop my hand, gauging his reaction closely.

"Why is your hand so cold?" I shrug one shoulder.

"Bad circulation."

"It's colder than ice."

"More like marble, I'd say." Jason stared with his mouth opening and closing before finally settling on opening.

"I don't know what that means." I nodded.

"I know. There's not a lot you humans know. Facts are misleading and don't always give the entire story."

"What are you talking about?"

"I don't know." I chuckle. "Which is funny since I don't really want to talk… like at all." I take a step forward until I'm right in front of him. "Let's not talk." Jason nods, not making a move. "What's the matter? Don't you want to kiss me?" He nods softly.

"Yes." I smirk discretely.

"I'm not going to stop y-" Before I get a chance to finish, he crashed his lips to mine. Not a bad kisser. Soft lips with a persistent tongue. I vow my fingers into his soft hair, crashing him closer but overly aware that I couldn't crush too much. He takes a step, baking me towards the desk.

His fingers tickled my side as they lowered over my ribs before settling on my hips. He pushed himself towards me before tearing himself away. I try to pull him back but he turns his face slightly away.

"What?"

"I don't even know you." I roll my eyes before smiling at him.

"So? I don't know you either." I lean forward and capture his lips again. He kisses me back, his fingers barely sneaking underneath the hem of my shirt before he pulls back again.

"I usually don't do this."

"I don't care," I rasp out before pulling the t-shirt over his head. Surprising me, Jason grabbed me and forcefully pushed me into the desk. I knotted my hand in his hair while using the other to heave myself up into a sitting position.

While dragging my nails down his chest – way too gently – Jason broke away from me, grabbing my ankle roughly, pulling off my shoe and letting it drop on the floor. The other joined not five seconds later.

I leaned back on my hands, watching as he fumbled to undo his belt buckle. I smirked while slowly drawing my left foot up and down the outside of his leg. He fumbled some more before finally getting it loose. Grabbing my hips roughly, he pushed me to the edge of the desk, practically ripping off my shirt, taking me by surprise again.

I gently grab the back of his neck and pull his face down to mine. I'm overly aware of how good he smells right now. I didn't pay enough attention before but he smells utterly delicious. Breaking away, panting, he starts to kiss lightly down my throat. I bite my lip and close my eyes, acutely aware his jugular is mere millimeters away. I can feel it against my palm.

My eyes snap open. My irises are black, I know it. I lick my lips and force my hand away, to grab the desk next to my thigh. I hear something break. Jason doesn't. He kept kissing down my frame, now coming to the top of my chest. His hand snake behind me back to find the clasp of my bra. The material falls away and I close my eyes again, letting him do anything and everything his little heart desired.

Listening the thump and feeling it beneath my hands as he rocked into me hard and fast was almost better than the sex itself. Almost.

Needing to feel in control, I crash him closer, wrapping my legs around his waist. I grab at the back of his neck, running my nose and mouth across the trembling vein. My lips automatically pull back and I barely graze his skin but it's too much. I push away, crashing his lips to mine again for distraction.

We tumbled to the floor, both of us panting; him out of exhaustion and me out of pretend. But it wasn't any better or worse than when I walked into this house. I leaned my head in my palm, treading the fingers through my hair. My gaze automatically fixated on Jason's throat. The vein jumped against the thin layer.

"… unbelievable." My gaze shot up, realizing he had been talking to me. I smiled and chuckled. I'm not sure I would have used that term. It was good; don't get me wrong but unbelievable? That's not in my vocabulary.

The vein brought me under again. The steadying thump of the heart. I raised my hand and gently drew the tips of my fingers above his heart, feeling the vibrations. It tingled me.

Catching his gaze, I – innocently – caught my nail on his skin. The brittle layer broke, barely making a drop. He flinched.

"I'm sorry, did I do that?" My voice was soft and filled with innocence. Jason stared at me as I brought my lips down and fished up the drop, careful not to let my tongue anywhere near him.

The blood gathered on my bottom lip, seemingly evaporated before it went down my throat. My whole mouth tasted of blood now. I bit my bottom lip, catching his gaze again. He looked like a deer caught in the headlight. I smirked and snickered.

"Why did you do that?" I shrugged, playing with the closing wound.

"Shouldn't let it go to waste." His expression was so amusing, I almost started to laugh.

"Are you a freak?" This time I did laugh.

"We're all freaks. Some of us are just better at hiding it."

"That's deep," he says before cracking up. I roll my eyes and sit up with my back to him, looking for my underwear.

As I go to pull up my pants the guy sits up and grabs my arm, making me sit down, facing him.

"Are you leaving?"

"Yes," I say and yank out of his weak grip, finding my shirt and pulling it on.

"Just like that?"

"Just like that," I reply and sit down, pulling on my shoes.

"Well can I see you again?" I sigh and turn towards him, running a hand through my hair.

"Why don't we skip this part? Let's just call this what it is, okay?"

"A one-night-stand?" I nod.

"Yeah I was feeling down. And since I can't do what I next to normally do when I feel down, mad, annoyed or bored, I figured sex was the best way to rid myself of some pent up frustration." He stares at me. "Don't act as if you don't love the fact that you get laid and don't have to pretend that you'll call met in the morning."

"I'm not that kind of guy."

"Well you just fucked me like you're that kind of guy."

"Still…. I'd like to see you again." I rolled my eyes, irritation clouding my mind.

"That's not possible. I'm not going to be in town for that much longer." I stand up, straining to leave since my very nature is telling me to kill him. I still taste blood in my mouth. "Look… I'm giving you an out. Don't over-think it. I'm the kind of girl who tells you exactly what's on my mind. I don't bullshit. Let's part ways and hope for the best in the future, okay?" Before he had a chance to respond, I was out the room, frustration written all over my face as I make my way through the house, trying to find the way out.

Most people are strewn over the floor, half their bodies still on the couch. Some are dry-humping against the wall and some are next to fucking on the stairs. You could kill someone with all the hormones in this house.

As I cross the threshold of the little canary house, the deafening silence gets to me. I am no longer upset. Annoyed, sure. But I'm past that little… tick. I have a different plan in mind now. I start to smirk.

It's time I meet the rest of the family.

* * *

**AN: Again, reviews are treasured… **


	11. Better To Rule In Hell

"_Better to rule in hell than serve in heaven"_

I stay cooked up in the house for the remainder of the weekend. On Sunday night – morning – I started fidgeting with my necklace. I saw a tear in one of the chains. It was miniscule at most but if I wasn't careful, it would break and I'd have to fix it. Believe it or not, most normal people don't walk into a jeweler store and ask for a three-hundred year old necklace to be repaired. At best they think you stole it.

When you've been around for a while, you start to make mistakes without even thinking about it. You use old terms or speech – that's the easiest thing to overlook. Sometimes I do walk into a pawn shop or jeweller and ask to have a certain necklace or ring valued and eventually sold. Their eyes widen as if they've been caught in the headlights. I suppose they don't see many five carat emerald necklaces with a chain of opal diamonds.

It's tedious to watch your every movement. To catch yourself at the start of a sentence you couldn't reveal.

But for now, the clock was ticking. Sleeping with the guy across the street had been pleasurable, no doubt, but I'd disconnected my brain. He couldn't see me many more times, if any. If I stayed any longer, he'd see me entering and leaving this house. He would know it's vacant and contact some form of local authorities'.

I sighed and gracefully removed myself from the sill, barely touching the floor as I tip across the room. I stand at a distance and look with judging eyes at my laptop as I us one finger to open the lid. I'd exhausted every site I could think of. Not even funny picture could satiate my ever-growing impatience with how slow time moves when you have absolutely nothing to do.

Feeling ridiculous but completely sane, I let my fingers ghost over the keyboard, looking up recent wolf attacks and or sightings.

I lean my chin against the palm of my hand with the other move page up and down as I read the fastest I've ever read. In most countries, the wolf is too endangered that ever mishandled incident must be reported or charges would be drawn.

One wolf was accidentally killed in Portland by a hunter and several sightings in northern Idaho. But that was a long way from here.

I snort, feeling slightly foolish but still reminding myself I wasn't researching because it had anything to do with me being so called, scared – such a useless emotion – but everything to do with the Volturi. You must know your enemies. And their intentions.

The clock was ticking. The dark still remained, but it was almost time. I'd have to get ready.

I got rid of the too-worn clothes, fully aware I was never to wear them again. Instead I pulled on dark skinny jeans and a pair of brown wedge boots made of plastic bags. The material alone is why I bought them. There's something to it when you say you own a pair of boots made of plastic bags.

I snicker at my own insanity and pull a white tank-top over my head. Shaking out my hair, I pushing and tug it into a curly messed-up mop of perfection, deciding towards harder curls today. I wrap a thin grey cable-knit scarf around my neck twice, making it hang loose around my hemline. I grab the impulse purchase of the week; a pair of dark arm warmers and pull them on. They were at the register and looked nice. I do a lot of shopping that way.

The material of the pleather jacket feels nice against my skin, the arms reaching just a millimeter short of my hand. Lastly, I finish off my pretty picture with a chunky knit beret.

I pick up my cell before dropping it almost immediately on the bed. I would have no need for it today. He could ring all he wanted but I would never answer. I laughed at the mental image. I look through the sheets for the ancient mood ring, placing it where it usually stays; on my right index finger when I feel a shape I did not expect. At the bottom of my bag, a tear in the lining reveal to me a shining object. I tear the hole bigger and to my surprise, pull out a most beautiful and familiar ring.

1.8" long sterling silver worn together for the classical rose shape. Perfected with small and glistering mascasite stones along the entire lengths and width of the metallic flower.

I put the ring on my left middle finger and admire it from afar. It is a beauty, no doubt, but I would have to be more careful in the future when disposing of items I don't legally own. I should dispose of it now. But the light catches the silver and stone lightly and I feel like a child that's so engraved in the shiniest object in the room. Nevertheless, I leave the room five minutes later, still wearing the ring.

As I stand at the bottom of the steps, I try to think of how I go about this. I didn't know where they lived but of course I could look. It would take much longer and I don't have any patience left. I could go look it up but they probably wouldn't be on the phone book. Are there still phone books?

Then something hits me. It would be a bad idea but… he said he wanted to see me again.

I take quick steps down the road, crossing it and listening for humans inside. Two. One asleep – snoring – and the other is in the kitchen. The fridge opens and closes several times and then a chair is pulled across the floor.

I walk up the path, my head turning as the light switches on with a motion sensor. I jump up the steps and knock with a feathery touch on the door. I push my hands into the jacket pockets and wait, listening as the person gets up from the chair and moves through the house, finally coming at a stop at the door. The door swings open and Jason stares at me like he's seen a ghost.

"Hi," I greet with a warm smile. I already hate the day.

"Hey," he replies, coming out of the fog. "What are you doing here?"

"You said you wanted to see me. Well here I am."

"But… I have school in thirty minutes. Don't you go to school?" Oh… right. Social perception.

"I graduated early." He nodded, shivering against the cold.

"Could I come inside?" He says nothing but moves out of the way. I unzip my jacket, following Jason into the kitchen. He puts a dirty bowl in the sink before turning towards me, leaning against the counter.

"You did not come here just to see me," he states. I lean my arms on the bar stool. "You were very clear you didn't want to see me again."

"Perceptive. I actually wanted to ask you something."

"Shoot."

"You said you knew everyone in town."

"Pretty much."

"Do you know the Cullen family?" There is a shift in his face starting with curiosity and grows into recognition before settling on resentment. _I__'__ll__take__that__as__a__yes_, I think to myself.

"Why are you asking about the Cullen's?"

"Morbid curiosity."

"Everyone knows the Cullen's but no one actually knows them."

"How long have they been here?"

"Since the beginning of the school year." I nod. "They're… weird." I refrain from chuckling. Maybe they're not so good at blending in as they think.

"Are they in the same class as you?" He nods.

"Some."

"Some?"

"Just Alice and Rosalie." I nod distractedly. I was about to ask what ages they claim to be but since it pretty much looks like I know them now, it would be odd if I asked how old they are. "Why are you asking, for real?"

"We're kind of old friends." He looked shocked by this.

"You don't seem like the type to be friends with them."

"Why not?"

"Because they're…" He struggled for words. "They're weird and I'm not sure why but they're scary." I compose my features into a mask of amusement.

"Don't laugh at me."

"I'm not laughing, but listen to yourself."

"How can you not see it? If you know them?" I shrug.

"You need to find another pastime hobby." He looks away and I can see a small rosy tint forming on his cheeks. So he is obsessing. Probably not the only one. "Do you know where they live?" His gaze shoots to mine, surprised and guarded.

"I thought you said you knew them."

"That might have been a bit of a stretch. But we haven't met in ages," or ever, "and I can't find them online. They moved away so suddenly… years ago."

"Don't you know anyone who has their number?"

"I'm asking you, am I not?" My frustration seeps through and I bit my teeth together to keep the calm. I plant a charming smile on my face. "I would be much happy if you would help me." I come around the island and stand right in front of him. We're almost the same height, thanks to my plastic bag shoes. Okay, putting it like that sounds weird.

I stare him straight in the eyes as I wait for them to dilate. A dreamy and confused expression grows and soon he will tell me anything and everything I wish to hear.

"Where does the Cullen's live?" I ask in the softest tone. "Is it in town?" He shakes his head.

"No. It's outside. In the woods." My mind rake over the endless possibilities' and countless acres of land I would have to search.

"Do you know more specifically?"

"I… I'm not sure. They usually don't talk to others."

"But you must know somehow. Don't people sneak into the office and look through people personal files." That seems to flash a bulb.

"Yes!" He hiss, his eyes rolling. "The father works at the hospital." My head slump and I grab my forehead. Such idiots!

"I'm not looking for the hospital. I'm looking for their residence!" My frustration isn't hiding anymore. It's taking every ounce of self-control I have not to slam his head in the marble countertops.

"I'm not sure…" his voice shows fear but he cannot fight it once he's in the trance.

"Think about every time you spoke to either of them. What did they say?"

"I'm not sure." I sigh. "Wait!" I tense. "One time… I overheard a girl on my class talking to the small one, Alice."

"And?"

"It was just small talk but I swear she said something about the noise was extremely annoying."

"Noise?"

"I'm not sure." Noise? What noise? Freeway? No that wouldn't do anything. Unless Alice was lying. She was probably telling the truth. People are horrible at hearing the truth and would rather believe a lie. So what noise? From the city? From people? From- the airport!

I let him go and rushed out of the house, already two blocks away by the time he came out of it. He wouldn't remember me. And if he did, he probably wouldn't say anything to anything. Maybe he would think of it later. Passing by someone with the same colored hair as I. It wouldn't matter then either way. Unless she saw this. But why should she? Though she'd probably see me entering the house. Would she see me going there? How long would I have? An hour? Half? Ten minutes? Five?

I shook my head. There wasn't time to waste, thinking of it.

My feet barely touched the ground I was running so fast. My hair whipped in the still wind. I was already across town. Keeping mental count, it had only gone fifty-six seconds. I jumped over fences, I tore through oblivious crowds. I came to the end… though not quite so dramatically.

I swooshed past the trees as they all emerged into one giant wall. I could hear the flights in the background but it wasn't enough to deter my focus. There were no humans around now. No pulsing hearts anywhere. I slowed down a bit, watching everywhere now. The plot was still large. And it would take time I didn't pay attention.

I stopped in the midst of frosted covered grounds, a clearing. The ground was hard but I saw markings below the ice. I sank to a crouch, touching the indentation. Someone skidding across field? An image flashed through my mind. A distant memory.

"_We usually pass the time with games. Since they think I cheat," he smirked, "we tried football but Emmett kept kicking it too hard and they exploded. But baseball was a safe bet after those incidents…" _

I rose up, feeling almost giddy. Soon I'd see and then I could get the fuck away from here. Not owing anyone or anything any explanation or visit ever again. Free to roam the world however the fuck I wanted.

I tried to listen for some sign they were close but there wasn't anything. No feet against the ground. No ghosting voices. No unfamiliar scent. A frown appears on my face and my eyes narrow.

I start running again, feeling worried now. The mental clock tells me I've wasted almost three minutes already. I tear through the trees again. The day is getting lighter. But the clouds are too thick. The sun wouldn't appear for a long while. Perhaps not all winter.

It happened so fast; one second I was by the field and the next; I was standing two hundred feet away from the house. I stopped abruptly, getting hold of a tree to slow me down. It wouldn't have been hard to miss it. It melts into the background. It doesn't look like any trees had been cut for the foundation, but they had used the limited space already available.

I stand at a distance, listening for anything and anyone.

Two pairs of feet thumping lightly against hardwood floors. I turn around, hiding behind the tree while letting my back hit the bark. I don't dare to breathe. The figure moves quickly but still takes it's time.

A door opens and close. The figure is outside. I freeze my limbs as I hear it careen towards the river, away from me. I let out the breath I had left and stepped out from my hiding place.

I watched the house more carefully now as I strode towards it.

Basement plus two upper levels. The windows reach from ceiling to floor. Brick walls in three different colors. The dining/living room and kitchen are all in same. Every wall is covered in class. Modern to the point of insanity. I ascended the stairs leading me through a sliding door and the next second I'm standing by the fireplace, looking over the room.

It's very pretty. I can at least admit that.

White, pink, white with pink, yellow and blue orchids placed with consideration around the rooms. Bits and pieces of expensive looking artwork hung from the little space there was. As there were more windows than walls, the rooms needed no artificial light but during the night.

I walk down the length of the room and stop as I arrive at the kitchen. Completely unused stainless steel appliances and utensils. The dining table is ready to fit six – the enormous couch more than a dozen.

A large staircase dominated half the hallway, containing hundreds of books.

I turn and let my fingertips ghost over the many spines of books at the other corner off the hallway. First editions, collectors' editions and dictionaries. Don't they already know every language there is to know? Such a disappointment.

But these must only be for show. Leather bindings that are too odd to be played with. But who's the show for? I brought out a nondescript heavy brown hardcover edition and started flipping through the gold dusted pages as I heard quick feet approaching the house. I stayed where I was but setting the book back in favor of another with a familiar title.

The person stops just outside, no doubt confused if not just a teeny tiny worried on who exactly was in her house. I sense her hesitation and decides to speak up.

"I wouldn't call anyone, if that's what you're thinking. Alice have probably already seen this and I'm sure they're rushing home to save you." I set the book beck, coming around the corner. "Not that you need to of course, I don't mean you any harm."

"So what are you doing here?" Esme asks, closing the door behind her and removing a pair of gloves, placing them on the glass table next to the couch.

"Just visiting," I reply with a smile. Not sure I care whether she believes it or not.

"You don't need to break in."

"So I would have been invited? I highly doubt that." Esme moves past me and goes into the kitchen, filling a vase with water while plunging rich yellow sunflowers into it, arranging them into her idea of perfection.

"I've heard a lot about you, Bella. One of my children says you're Satan while the other say's you're not _that_ bad. And I don't know you well enough to make an assumption."

"Why not take his word for it? Isn't that what modern people do? Listen to gossip and pass judgment on people they've never met?" Esme chuckles and turn towards me.

"I can't judge you because you don't live the way we do. The same way I know you don't judge us."

"I don't judge you, I pity you." She sighs and discretely shakes her head.

"One day, Bella, I really hope you'll understand that not every person wants to pick a fight. Not everyone has an ulterior motive."

"Of course they do."

"So what's yours?" I smirk, biting my bottom lip.

"This is a very lovely house." I'm nothing if not subtle. Esme nods.

"It is. We build during the summer." I nodded absentmindedly, watching the décor.

"Don't you think it's a waste? You can't expect to be more than three years, right?" Esme took a breath.

"You are more than welcome to stay. If you want to talk. But I don't condone you trying to rally up Edward just for your own amusement." This time I laughed.

"Rallying him up is just a perk. And I would love to stay and chat." With that, I moved across the room, picking up an Xbox 360 Bluetooth controller. "I miss the old days." After absentmindedly turning the controller over, I threw it lightly onto the couch. "Modern technology is such a hassle. But by saying that, it makes me feel so old." I sighed. "And still too young." I got to a smaller build-in bookcase, turning over random items. I always thought there'd be more pictures around but I've yet to see a single one.

"Do you mind me asking…" I turned my head slightly, raising a brow. "How old are you?" when I didn't respond, Esme became alarmed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry." I shrugged.

"Why does it matter?" I venture. Esme shrugs herself, sitting down delicately on the couch, legs crossed in the proper manner. As if she was actually at a country club and not in the privacy of her own home.

"Morbid curiosity." I had to laugh at that. My voice chimes through the house but I make no notion to respond but my manners must have made her comfortable inquiring more. "1-10?" I shake my head while pointing up towards the ceiling. "Civil war victim?" I turned with scrunched brows. "You seem like the fighting type." I nod absentmindedly. There's a pause and then I blurt out sometimes. I have no reason or argument why. It just came out.

"You should leave," I say, as quietly as possible but I know she hears me clearly.

"Sorry?" I shake my head, regretting it before I've even said anything.

"Never mind." I remain quiet for a few seconds before the awkward silence tears through my patience. "I need to leave." Esme stands up.

"Are you sure?" The sight almost makes me laugh.

"I'm very sure." I got to the sliding door before turning back for a few last words. "It was nice meeting you, Esme." And then I'm gone. I run – by far the fastest I've ever sun in my entire life. Faster than this morning. Well… technically it's still morning.

The small canary house comes into view but I don't register the whole as I shoot through the front door. I slam it too hard and it exploded into tiny bits and pieces. I sigh in frustration while grabbing my hair. No matter. I'll be gone before anyone will have a chance to notice. Did anyone hear? Was it loud? Maybe a curious neighbour might pop his or her head inside the seemingly abandoned house down the road. Nothing stays quiet for long in a small town.

I grudgingly stomp my feet into the hallway – if vampires even can stomp. I suppose not. Yet another thing I can quietly hate about my nature. But that's not the thought that makes my limbs freeze and tense at the same time. I compose my features. I can't afford to seem weak, even to him.

I stop short at the foot of the stairs. The day's mentally exhausted me. I wanted to grab my stuff and leave. I missed the life I led the previous week. Staying far away from this continent served me well for several years.

"Why don't you say what you came here to say and let's get it over with?" My voice is surprisingly melancholy and filled with sighs.

"You went to my house." His tone is not as harsh as I would have thought but there's tension. One wrong word from me and he'll lose it.

"Yes." I lean my arm on the railing, cocking my head, looking utterly uninterested.

"I don't know how you found it-"

"Kid across the street goes to school with you. He was more than happy to oblige with the directions." Wasn't technically a lie but right now I wasn't in the mood to fight yet another topic. Edward ignored me.

"You had no right going there." His did an odd motion with his hands that I would guess was him imagining choking me. If I wasn't "worried" he'd throw me through the wall, I would have laughed at the picture before me.

"I thought this was still a free country."

"Don't…. don't make jokes." His voice declines. The blow-up is near. That's when I notice it. Staring into his face – since I don't think it's an odd idea to break eye-contact – I see his eyes. Or rather, the color. They're brilliantly golden. Illuminating even. He's fed recently. Overdone it I'd say. Did he anticipate a fight? Or was he sure I'd say something wrong he'd have to respond in a manner that would surely provoke the desired effect? But I wasn't interesting in a physical fight. And not with him. "I don't remember eve being this mad with you before…" I'm not sure he's completely talking to me since he's turned his back to me but I still feel an obligation to respond.

"That's not true. Remember Germany? You were piiiiissed." I draw my voice out in a playful tone, trying to lighten the mood. It's not working.

"I want you to leave."

"Okay."

"I'm not playing games Bella. This is my family. I don't care about your reason for showing up here as if nothing's happened but this stop now. I want you gone."

"Okay!" I shout. He obviously didn't hear my previous acceptance or maybe he chose to acknowledge any response I might have as a negative. But with my sudden outburst, that's not an option anymore.

"What?" Confusion, shock and a hint of apprehension.

"I said okay. Granted it's not because of you. I made this decision as soon as I left your house. But if it helps you metaphorically sleep, then…" I lift my hand, trying to convey if this is all and if he could leave so I could. But he's not done.

"Just like that?" I sigh while nodding.

"Just like that."

"I don't believe you."

"I swear I'm leaving-"

"Not about leaving. The other part." I make my face into one of exhaustion and annoyance. "You shot up and in less than a week you leave. I don't buy it." shaking my head now, I take the first step upstairs.

"I don't care if you buy it or not. Tell yourself I'm leaving because I'm homesick. Convince yourself it's because your threat has hit something somewhere deep inside me. Why don't you try believing I'm leaving because of you? Let your mind wander on the possibility that I simply can't stand being in the same town as you due to the fact that I can't not be in the same town as you." I chuckle but it'd completely dead. "I'm over it." I take another step but I shouldn't have turned my back to him.

I crash through the wall and see the hole before realizing I just came through there and is the cause of such an unnatural shaped in the middle of someone former living room. I land in an automatic crouch but he's at me again, grabbing me by the arms and pinning me to the wall next to the hole. He's stronger today. Not as strong as I but today I'm not fighting his anger. His fist punches through the wall five millimeters from my left temple. I see the fist form in slow motion and don't even flinch when it breaks the plywood.

His breathing hard, fixated on me, as if his stare could draw out every one of my secrets. I see my reflection on his golden orbs. I look beaten, weak. But at this particular moment, I don't care.

"Why did you come here?" he asks one more time. His voice is low, enticing. But it's not the tone that made me shiver but the one that made my nerves shoo through the roof and that familiar stone form in my stomach that I knew resembled nausea – or what I believed nausea to be.

I decided not to lie. And then I decided not to tell the truth either.

Adverting my gaze last for two seconds exactly. He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look him straight in the eyes. Swallowing, I unintentionally let my nervousness known. I wanted to slap myself.

"If you tell me now… I promise I won't get mad." I had to clam my mouth shit as not to snort at this ridiculousness. Of course he'd be mad. He'd be even more pissed when he knew I agreed to the deal. Though technically speaking I'm being blackmailed so it's not a fair competition on who wants my head on a silver platter first.

"Don't ask me this," I whisper. My mind wander and I'm starting to feel the same pressure and nerves as when Aro called me. But it's more than that. The Volturi don't fuck around. I joke all the time – with myself – but I would rather not be destroyed just yet. If ever since we don't have an expected expiration date.

Edward's more perceptive than I give him credit for. His face relaxes and moves away a little.

"Are you scared?" I try to compose myself but it's futile. All I can do is lick my lips but not even a simple act as that can't distract me. I swallow again.

"I'm not sure," I whisper after moments of dead silence. Edward's face goes blank as he considers my words.

"Should you be?" he finally asks; his grip loosening but doesn't go away.

"Maybe," I admit. His hands fall away but he's still standing close. "Probably." Edward runs a hand over his face. My mind crosses from one possibility to another in a matter of milliseconds. Tell him? Don't tell him? Cook up a lie? Make a run for it? I could probably shake him. Unless he called Alice. She could find me in seconds if she tried.

But if I told him this, I'd have to tell him everything. Or did I? Maybe I could thin out the truth just a bit. Or a lot. I didn't have to tell him what happened after the attack. He didn't need to know about one of the worst moments of my life.

"Volturi sent me."

* * *

**AN: Dun dun dun! How horrible of me to end it there. Won't take long before the next chapter is up. Oh and I don't care what American's say (and possible other countries I don't know of at this moment) football is when you kick the ball, not throw it.  
And has anyone seen the new Hunger Games trailer? Wow, right?  
**

**Link****-**http:/www(dot)homedesigninterior(dot)org/modern-level-house/


	12. People Tend To

"_People tend to associate anyone who looks and behaves differently with illegal or immoral activity"_

Edward gives me a stare of utter disbelief. I was prepared for hatred and or screaming but I didn't even consider the fact that he might not believe me. But why would he? I've never given him a reason to believe me… to trust me.

"Volturi?" I frown at his tone.

"Yes." Though against his better judgment, he doesn't appear to find this amusing. "Technically it was just Aro."

"Why only him?" I shrugged.

"Said he wanted to keep this private. But that could have been a bunch of bullshit."

"What did he want you to do?"

"He wanted me to find you – all of you – and tell me my thoughts."

"What thoughts?"

"He's worried. He thinks you're too many. He thinks you're on the track of overthrowing them and their rules." Edward's brows shot up.

"He said that?"

"Didn't have to. I can read between the lines." He shook his head.

"This is ridiculous." Then he turned back towards me. "You're telling me the truth? No bullshit now, Bella. You're serious?" Several moments of silence went by before I nodded. He looked relieved. "Why did he ask you? He could have sent anyo-" I cock a brow as he cuts himself off. "Oh… but still." I sighed.

"Does it matter why? It's bad enough I'm telling you this. If they find out I can't keep my mouth shut… I can't have that reputation Edward."

"Since when do you give a shit on what reputation you have?"

"When people stop fearing me!" My fear momentarily stepped aside so I could lash out. "People will think I'm weak. That I'll cave like a little girl because I'm scared. I'm allowed to have my secrets." He seemed frustrated.

"You can't tell me this and not elaborate." I looked away like a stubborn child. "Are they… Are they planning on coming here?"

"Didn't sound like it. But people change their minds all the-"

"What do they have on you?" Licking my lips I lean back against the wall.

"Honestly… nothing. But… they can make it look like something." A sigh. "I'd been staying in Russia way out in the country. Not many knew I was there which was ideal… either way. One night while I was preoccupied… the house caught fire. I didn't notice anything until the smoke started coming up the stairs."

"You didn't notice your house on fire?"

"I was young. I didn't think I had to care about my house burning up. But then someone came inside. Before he even got to three steps I was outside and running faster than I'd ever had to before. There were two… could have been more. One was small… no older than fourteen. Brown hair-"

"That's Alec," Edward interrupted. "He has a twin – Jane. They usually don't go too far away from one another. Sorry." I shook my head before continuing.

"The other one was bigger. Short black hair."

"Could be Felix," he interrupted again. He had the sense not to apologize again.

"Anyhow… I didn't know until later that they were there because of an overpopulated area of werewolves. At least that's the official story. Wouldn't surprise me if they went to hunt them all down. Wouldn't make a difference to me either way."

"So what does that have to do with you?"

"I was living in their territory. They obviously thought I was working with those dogs. At least that's the angle they're going for." Edward cocks a brow. "I wasn't on their territory. I didn't even think werewolves existed. Least of all fifteen minutes from my house.." Seeming to think over my words carefully, something flashes across his face and then he looked incredulously at me.

"But how did you get away from there?"

"I ran… obviously."

"You ran?" I nodded. "You shouldn't have been able to."

"Pardon?"

"Alec can immobilize you from miles away. You shouldn't have been able to move, to think, if he was close enough." The boy's face flashes across mine. His fixated stare.

"Nothing happened. I ran and made it to the road." As Edward processed everything I've said and obviously something else I was failing to see, I removed the scarf and beret, feeling silly wearing them inside. I threw them onto the couch, as well as the arm warmers onto the couch before the attention was pulled back at me.

"Why are they pulling it up now?" I shrug.

"I don't know."

"Alice and Jasper were the last to enter our family. That was over sixty years ago. I won't believe you if you say this is all."

"It's all bullshit. It's not true and I've never cared before whether someone believed something someone else told them about me that wasn't true."

"You're confusing me."

"I was in Romania… before coming here. And I ran into something. Literally. Would have torn my head off if I let it." His eyes widened in recognition.

"You got attacked by a werewolf?"

"Yeap."

"One?"

"Mhm." I unzipped my jacket, taking it off so he could see the gash in my arm. Gash was an overstatement but it seems fitting since I'm not supposed to scar anymore. Edward's face softened and if I didn't know any better I'd say he didn't hate me at all. The power of an illusion.

"What happened?" His voice was just as soft. It made me relax.

"I killed it."

"You killed it?"

"Mhm… wasn't easy. They're very strong. And it literally pains me to admit that."

"I'm sure your ego can get over it." I smirked, liking the lighter side before the depressing reality finally hit my smirk faded.

"You should leave town. Split up. Can't catch you all."

"We're not slipping up." Sighing in frustration, I run a hand through my curls.

"It doesn't matter what I tell him. They'll still find another reason. Every action will be monitored. You do realize that?" He nodded to which I shook my head while chuckling darkly. "It's almost as if you have a death wish." He opens his mouth to say something but I cut him off. "No, you know what? I really don't get it. Hiding in this shithole of a town? And going to high school? How many times has it been now? Ten? Twenty? Eventually you'll run out of schools. Of places to go and play house."

"Are you done?"

"For now."

"We'll leave. In time. But we can't move from town to town the way other do. A family of seven doesn't go unnoticed. And as far as school goes… it's the natural thing to pass time." I shake my head, feeling frustrated.

"IT's like talking to a deaf person."

"Why don't you say what you really want." I huff. "Come on. I know you want to."

"You're so stupid," I mutter, feeling angry.

"Go on."

"So fucking stupid. This; all of this… it's a joke. And I'm not talking about what you eat. And don't give me shit on passing time. There are far better options than going to school. This life blows… a lot. But we always love it more than we hate it." He looks like he's about to dispute me but he knows I'm right. But then he gives me this look. It makes me uncomfortable.

"Wow Bella. If I didn't know any better I'd say it sounds as if you actually care." I decide not to respond to that.

"Whatever. But you're getting what you want. I'm leaving today. The town is officially rabid free." He frowned.

"But you can't leave now."

"Excuse me?"

"Carlisle at least needs to know this."

"I'm sure you'll be able to remember it all for him."

"It's easier if it comes from you."

"Easier? None of this is supposed to be easy." I bite my lip while silently grumbling. "I'm leaving today. Whether the entire story is out or not."

"Fine…" I pull on my jacket as we make our way outside. As I tense my muscles to make a run for it, Edward walks straight for a car across the street. I cock my head at the silver Volvo parked there before feeling the impulse of a laugh.

"A Volvo, really?"

"What? It's inconspicuous."

"And dull."

"Not everyone can steal a new car every day."

"It's not _every_ day." I shut my door and he speeds off.

A hum goes through the metal with a slight vibration. A human probably wouldn't detect it. Without thinking about it, I started playing with my hair while on and off leaning my head into my hand to study him.

"What?" he asks, getting defensive once he's caught my staring.

"Nothing," I said with a shake of my head.

"Then stop staring at me." I smirk but look away.

"Where's the rest of the family?"

"Home."

"Speaking of; why's there so many windows? There's more glass than walls."

"We like the open space."

"It's nice," I whisper. "But not as nice as a flat in Bulgaria."

"No?"

"The rats make for very nice company."

"I didn't know rats were so social."

"You'd think not but if you're still enough they let you spot them for over ten seconds."

"Wow that's a feat."

"I know, right? I'm living the dream." A minute goes by before he breaks the silence.

"Why do you? You can get money-"

"And buy a house? Decorate it? Enroll in high school? College? Make up a back-story on how my parents tragically died in a fire some odd years ago and I've been on my own ever since? And then coming up with a good enough story as to why I have to leave some odd years later? That's not my life. And I'm glad it's not. You may not get this but about ninety percent of the time I really like it. Probably more than I should."

"And the other ten?" I don't answer. The house comes into view.

I feel my legs reluctantly following him inside. Through the front doors this time. I push my hands into my jacket pockets so I wouldn't be compelled to pick at my nails or fuck forbid them see me fidget with the zipper.

I've always found it awkward whenever someone or several someone's staring at me. Could be the fact my father always made a point of slapping or chastise me whenever a boy looked at me for too long or if I spend too much time looking myself in the mirror. A girl never forgets critique like that. Especially if it's from a person whose opinion you value beyond anything.

I've stayed in the shadows for so long. I liked the shadows. I liked the eavesdropping. Having twelve eyes on me as soon as I turned the corner made me want to run away. How did I do this as a human? I remember liking the attention. I think.

The first one I notice is a beautiful girl with long wavy golden locks who at the moment looks as if she's about to lunge across the room to rip my head off. Her arms are crossed and her posture is rigid. While I do not understand the hostility, I'm also not investigating it. That must be Rosalie.

Alice is standing next to her. Possibly in the process of calming her down as we walked through the door. Esme quickly stood from the kitchen table when she saw us. I saw the corners of her lips twitch as if she wanted to smile but a quickly glance towards the beauty queen almost made me smile.

A talk and fairly blonde man in doctors' scrubs rose from the table as well but with less enthusiasm as his wife. Behind them leaned a big burly guy with dark hair against the window wall. He had this look, like he could find amusement in anything with a permanent grin fixed on his face. Emmett, of course. I wonder how he handles having to play incomplete during gym classes. I would imagine it to be less than desirable.

And then there's the last one. Jasper. Leaning against the wall to my left just a few feet away. I suppose they decided he needed to be closest, in case I went crazy and tried to take them all out. I'm sorely outnumbered. What have Edward been telling them about me? I'm pretty but not an idiot. I'd wait for at least two of them to leave. I probably shouldn't even think jokes at this point.

From the moment we stepped into the room, ten seconds of deafening silence ring through the air. But I don't think I've ever been so grateful when Edward's the one to get the ball rolling.

"How much have you told them?" He directed his question towards Alice who in return only shook her head. But they held eye contact during the exchange so she was obviously telling him something the rest of us weren't allowed to hear.

I leaned my side against the wall, keeping my hands inside the pockets. "We have a problem." Out of the corner of my eye I saw Rosalie's eyes flash and she was obviously about to say something but one squeeze of Alice's hand on her arm had her silenced.

"What's this about, Edward?" Carlisle's voice was calm and controlled. His gaze flung from Edward to me but while I kept my head up, I barely let myself breathe. Then Edward looked at me expectantly. I shrugged my shoulder, a silent question.

"Tell them what you told me."

"But you're doing so well." My voice is filled with nothing but sarcasm. He ignored it to which I sighed and rolled my eyes. I turned my head to the rest of the class, looking at no one in particular.

"I got a call a few days ago Aro." They say nothing but I know their minds are buzzing. I see the look of frustration on Edward's face.

"Aro called you? Personally?" Carlisle seemed more shocked Aro would take the time to call me himself instead of letting someone else do the talking for him.

"Yes," I said, probably more quietly than I had to. "He told me I had to come here… find out stuff."

"What stuff?" My head turned fast towards the sour voice. Rosalie probably couldn't contain herself anymore. If her hand wasn't fisted she'd probably have steam shooting out of her ears. The look was almost comical.

"He thinks you're too many."

"That's not an answer," she demanded. Edward sighed.

"Rose, please. Calm down." She stared at him furiously before turning towards Jasper. Her fists relaxed but even though she didn't say anything, the same glint was still there.

"What exactly did he say?" Carlisle interrupted. I told him. Word for word. Mostly. I might have left out details they didn't need to know about. "And how does he know so much about you?"

"I don't know." It's partially true. Though I have my 99 percent suspicion on who might be the one to have told Aro so many details about me.

"So what do we do about this?" Esme asked, looking worried. She obviously knew of the consequences implications could have. Another member of the family I can't say the same for.

"What's the big deal?" exclaimed Emmett, feeling ready for a fight. My guess is he always looks like that. "It doesn't matter what they say. It's not true."

"It doesn't matter whether it's true or not," Carlisle started. "If they have suspicions they are obliged to bring it up."

"But they can make suspicions out of nothing," Jasper injected. I knew very little of him. Edward wasn't too forthcoming about his family but he seemed almost guild if he ever spoke too much about Jasper. I suppose he felt it wasn't his story to tell.

Carlisle sighed and shook his head, seeming to be in deep thought. I didn't know why he was so against believe the Volturi could make up allegations to get what they wanted. I don't know who died and made them in charge and honestly, I don't care. As long as they stay out of my way, I have no real problem with them sitting on their high horses, playing almighty.

"Bella. When were you going to tell them about what you saw?" I shrugged.

"He didn't give a specific time. I wasn't even going to come _here_. I figured I show up in town and leave just as fast. But… if he send someone… to find me. He'd know and I couldn't leave without proof."

"So you have no problem throwing us under the buss to save your ass?" How has she not been punched before?

"First off; are you stupid enough to think I'd do that even as I'm standing here? And secondly; I'll do what's necessary to stay alive. And if I have to burn a few bridges, then so be it." I pushed away from the wall, pacing slowly in frustration while mentally grumbling.

Rosalie snorted at my answer but said nothing further. Carlisle had given her some form of expression and I'd take anything that would shut her up. This mean and bitchy side felt comforting. I almost felt like myself again. Maybe by nightfall. The revelation made me feel light and superior.

"May I ask what you're planning on telling them?" I shrugged.

"What's there to say? You've obviously deluded yourself into thinking this is a viable future. But since you can literally watch your own backs, I don't see what their problem is." Carlisle nodded.

"Thank you." Carlisle grabbed a bag off one of the chairs "I need to get back to the hospital." He touched Esme's shoulder before leaving the house. There was and challenged silence as Rosalie took off as well, fleeing upstairs. Emmett looked after her as she left but must have decided it safer to stay downstairs. Instead, Esme took off after Rosalie, leaving the remaining five of us standing silently in the living room. I turned towards Edward with an impatient sigh.

"Can I leave now?" He opens his mouth but before he has a chance to say anything, his head turns towards Alice, who in return has grown very still. Her face is free of any expressions. It lasts for two-point-seven seconds before she's lucid. She starts looking outside, searching. But it's Edward who says something first.

"Your friend's back." He looks down at me with an expecting expression.

"What? I didn't send for him."

"Then why would he show up here again?"

"How the fuck should I know?"

"Okay kids! Break it up!" I roll my eyes but move away from Edward, standing before the window next to the fireplace, watching the terrain.

"Does he know I'm here?" I whisper, not knowing how far away Riley is. I can't even see a shadow so I'm guess too far to overhear either of us.

"No." That made me smirk. "Why's that funny?"

"He's been saying things about me."

"Everyone says things about you."

"It's to the people he's saying them to that I'm not appreciating." Alice comes to stand by my side.

"He's too far away. You won't catch him if he hears you coming. Which he will." I turn to her.

"Don't you ever find it annoying always knowing the outcome of a situation?" She shrugs before nodding. "Will he come closer?" Her face grows blank. But it's Edward who answers my question.

"No. He's sure we can hear him. He's paranoid… almost afraid. He's wondering if you're here. If you're waiting for a chance, this is it."

"What? She gets to have all the fun?" I look at Emmet. He seems almost excited. I narrowed my eyes.

"I don't want any help." I make it down the steps before he's right in front of me. "Move," I command. He just laughs.

"I wouldn't, Emmett," Edward warns. I get nervous. Riley will be halfway to Greenland by the time this finish.

I try to walk around him. He cuts me off. I'm breathing hard now. But then, in the calm before the storm, I step back. Emmett sees it as a sign of relief but as soon as he's relaxed I grab his right arm, making him fling to his side before kicking him at the small of his back – with envy amount of energy I have. I watch him charge through the air and land front first against a thick tree. The bark breaks but doesn't topple. I hear snickers behind me. I don't think it's every day someone makes a fool of Emmett.

Then I hear it. A twig snaps. To my left. he must have been surprised. But if he's close enough to hear, he's close enough to catch. Before I'm aware, I've charge through the forest. I hear the rest follow but I'm faster. And it doesn't take long before I'm right behind him.

Riley's scent invades my senses. I take a deep breath, finding him two-hundred feet in front of me. He's quickly turning direction, doing a hard right. I turn quicker, wanting to cut him off. But right before I have him in my grasp he's turned again and I grasp at air. The sudden movement catches me off guard but I'm soon behind him once more. I hear light feet next to me. Alice must have seen this and come straight here. But I run faster, needing them to not get there first. I wanted Riley dead and only I was going to let that happen.

He's faster than I ever realized. But it wouldn't be a problem for much longer. I kick up above a fallen log and cut him off successfully. He makes hard stop but it's too late. I've already gotten a tight grasp on his arm and I fling him and myself into the nearest tree. My hand closes in on his throat. He sees the movement and claws at my arm while kicking me in the ribs. I lose my grip one fraction and he's escaped. I catch the hood of the sweatshirt he's tucked beneath a leather jacket and fling him down to the ground.

Making my move, I kneel quickly, placing my right knee in the center of his spine while getting a good grip on his head. I'm just about to snap when he gasps.

"I know where he is!" I stop my movements, panting for breath I don't need. My teeth are shaking from hatred.

"What?" I snarl; my voice dangerous. I pull his head back more.

"No wait! Please!" I hesitate but don't let his head go. "I heard a rumor." An unladylike snort escapes me.

"Let me guess. A friend of a friend of another friend? I don't go for silly tricks like that anymore."

"It's not a trick, I swear!" I lean down, getting my lips close to his ear.

"I don't believe you." In one movement his neck will snap and all I have to do is pull and he's gone. Riley senses this. His hands claws at the ground.

"Paris!" I hesitate again, this time letting his neck breathe a little. "The masquerade. I swear!" And now I know it's true. There's been a masquerade ball at Palais Garnier for years. Thomas always had a feel for the dramatics and he never missed an opportunity to go back to the old days. Dressing up is just part of the fun.

But I don't let him go. If I let him leave, alive, what message would that send. I couldn't have loose ends flinging around somewhere. It was a mistake making him. But I'll admit I had fun.

With a twist of my hands, his neck pops, two bones prodding out of the skin. He's screaming the best he can with his clavicles' in a twist. Replacing my knee with a foot, I tug and the diamond breaks.

I drop the head and it lands with a loud thump. The ground dents. I wait for the feeling of remorse but there's nothing. I'm completely hollow. Taking a step back, I feel my jacket for the lighter. The flame flickers in front of me but seems to draw long as I sink to a crouch. The flames engulf him in seconds. Sparks shoot into the sky. I lean against a tree and wait for it to pass. Soon he'll be dust and I'll be free.

"Who was he talking about?" Edward comes to stand next to me. I don't hear anyone else. Somewhere in the struggle they must have left. They couldn't have been afraid. The idea is preposterous. This is out true nature, even when destroying one of our own. He must have made them go back. I think I'm grateful.

"No one," I reply, not watching the flames anymore.

"Is it-"

"Drop it Edward," I warned, taking a deep breath and starts to walk off in a human pace. In which case, Edward is far faster.

"Are you going to Paris?" Of course I'm going you dipshit. He knows enough about me to figure out who Riley was talking about. I haven't searched for him since his very memory bring out a foul taste in my mouth but if I were to run into him… that would be most enticing. But I don't say that.

"Of course not." Edward knows me better, sadly. He grabs hold of me and crashed me into a nearby tree, pinning me to it. "He'll kill you. You think about that?" The tree shakes as his fist connect with the bark.

"What's the matter Eddie? I would have thought you'd be first in line to watch me fall. What with you hating me and all."

"I don't hate you." His voice is quiet, collected.

"Yes you do. Don't deny it. Though I can't seem to get why." His head comes up and his brows scrunch together.

"Why I deny it?"

"Why you left." As soon as they leave, I wish nothing more than for the words to get back into my mouth. This is too emotional. Too weak. I feel desperate. Needing to get away. I struggle against his hands.

"What?" I shake my head, feeling an imaginary pulse start to rise within me.

"Let me go." I struggle harder. He's having a tougher time keeping me there.

"No. Say that again." I shake free of him but he crashed me into another tree.

"Let me go!"

"Say it again!"

"Why did you leave me?" If I didn't look pathetic and sad before, I sure do now.

Edward looks at a loss for words, opening and closing his mouth without anything coming through. I panic before slumping back against the tree, defeated. That's when he let me go. I sink down, leaning my elbow on my knees, running a hand periodically through my hair. I wanted to crawl under a rock and stay there for all eternity.

"You never asked me to stay," he says after a while, having slumped down a tree himself.

I snort. "You didn't want to either way. Why delay the inevitable?"

"You could have come with me," he whispered. I shook my head.

"This isn't my life. I can't pretend to be a teenager forever. I'll go insane. If it's even possible."

I let my hand fall and watched the light reflect off the rose ring. I probably wouldn't destroy it. I had a hard time getting rid of beautiful pieces such as this one.

"Tell anyone the content of the last five minutes and I'll decapitate you," I threatened and stood pulling down the backed my top from under my jacket.

"Duly noted," he said quietly, not finding nay humor in my obvious exaggeration. I'd probably just pull off his arm. "I- eh… I'd like a way of getting in touch with you."

"Oh?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Humor me." I let out a deep breath and walked up to him, stopping one foot away. Reaching out, I slowly slipped my hand into his front pocket and pulled out a blackberry bold between two fingertips.

"I get a new number every year to the date," I explained as I typed. "I got this the day I came into town," I ended before slipping the device back into his pocket and taking a few steps back. "See you Edward."

Half an hour later, I found myself pacing in the upstairs master bedroom of the little canary house. My bag(s) – technically it's just the one bag since a purse isn't actually a bag, bag but considering the size I'm putting it in limbo – were packed. I had changed into skintight navy jeans, a black and white with gold text The Kills t-shirt, new flat black boots reaching my knees and a soft winter-ish jacket. Every clothing item I'd bought whilst here was currently disintegrating in the tub. Smoke poured out from under the closed bathroom door.

Twirling the rose ring between my hands, I gently laid the metallic piece on the window sill, figuring it would serve its next owner better than me. But the ring had only been a temporary distraction. My mind was running with the thought of how I would go about my next step, before leaving.

What am I supposed to day?

He hadn't used a hidden number. The symbols were screaming at me from the screen of the phone, waiting for me on the bed. I picked it up slowly, gauging the unknown number while running a hand through my pulled back hair. The messy bun looked almost too sophisticated.

I sighed again. The thirteenth time this far.

"Come on Bella," I muttered to myself. "Don't be such a fucking pussy." I hit call and held the phone up to my ear. The screen clinked with my ruby-colored stone studs.

I clanked the tips of my boot on the hardwood floor, waited patiently for someone to pick up. On the fifth ring, as I was pulling the phone from my ear to hang up, a sweet – too sweet – voice peeped into the receiver.

"Welcome to Bed Bath and Beyond. How may I help you?" What?

My brows scrunched in utter confusion before my head cocked to the side, feeling in no mood to be toyed with.

"May I speak to Aro?"

"I'm sorry. There is no one here by that name. Is there any other way I may be able to help you?" Frustration was evident now. A hard sigh ripped through me.

"I know he's there. He called me on this number."

"What is the nature of your inquiry?" She never missed a beat. Was she a vampire? Didn't sound like it. Her voice made no lasting impression. Never chimed in the familiar bell-like tenor.

"I'm Ma- Bella. He's been expecting my call." There's a slight pause.

"One moment please." The line cuts and a song with no words begin to play. I begin to recite 'The Legend of Sleepy Hollow' before the song cuts and a soft voice interrupts me.

"Bella. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?"

"Let's skip the pleasantries. I did what you wanted. The Cullen's are in no way a danger to themselves or others." Aro's voice lightened.

"Well isn't that marvelous. I knew you would be able." I waited but he didn't continue.

"And?"

"And what?"

"Our deal?"

"Oh yes, that. While I have no doubt you are nothing but honest with me… I am afraid I cannot to the fullest extent take your word unless I've seen it myself." Something drops inside my stomach.

"Excuse me?"

"Why, I believe we agreed on the terms before-"

"We agreed on no such thing," I hissed.

"So you do not intend to come visit me?"

"I do not." He sighed.

"That is unfortunate. I was sure you could read between the lines."

"What lines?"

"Well you must see this from my point of view, Bella. If I took the word of anyone without any proof, I would be a fool. You don't expect me to be a fool, do you?"

"Then why call me? You could have one of your dogs do this for you. They wouldn't have run, if that's what you were thinking."

"Oh of course not. Carlisle and I are good friends. I'm sure he would have greeted anyone in my family with the greatest admiration." My left fist froze in anger.

"This is ridiculous."

"I'm sorry you feel that way. I would much have loved to meet you personally, Bella."

"This will not be my fault. I can easily have the conversation recorded. We made no such agreement and if you plan on insinuating I'm breaking my end of the deal…"

"My dearest. That is not what we do. I'm very displeased you won't come for a visit but there is no need to go to such extremes. However, as I cannot to one-hundred percent believe you, I won't completely abolish your previous indiscretions', should something every rise again." The knot tightened in my stomach. "I only wish the best for our world, Bella. Which is why whenever a problem arises, we must work fast to fix it… Stay out of trouble."

And he was gone.

* * *

**AN: How ominous… That Aro will always have a way of bending the rules. You'll have to review to find out faster if Bella will get into trouble again. And I actually mean it this time. I have several chapters ready to be published. I've been busy in my absence.  
**


	13. Nostalgia is like grammar lessons

"_Nostalgia is like grammar lessons; you find the present tense, but the past perfect!"_

_January 15th 1912 _

_The cold seeped into my bones. White dust fell around us as the car tore through the city. I felt tempted to thrust out my hand on other to catch them, feel them land on my palm and never melt. Instead I turned my face from the scene, watching the inside of the coupé before letting my eyes land upon my own frame. _

_With a bump in the road, the coat slipped apart, revealing the front of my dress. Black embroidered sequences on lace above one cover of satin and a final layer of silk. I picked at the crystal-like stones, touching them delicately. The train wasn't long but enough to make a lasting impression. The sleeves reached just above my elbows – completely in lace and beads. _

_In my right hand is a dark wood and lace hand fan. It's a requirement in society. Being not only an accessory, women who loose enough oxygen would faint. A scandal, you know. Anything less that perfection wasn't tolerated. I never much cared for upholding my social status but having just arrived, I decided to make a name for myself. I knew it wouldn't last. Two years. Possibly three if I remain enough of a mystery. _

_A sigh escaped my lips. How tedious. _

_The car made a turn, letting one of the street lamps flash inside the compartment. A golden arrow glimmered across the roof before disappearing behind me. It wasn't every day I got to dress up nice. Perhaps that is the reason I treasure – if that's the right word – these few moments of complete humanity. The golden glimmer was the result of too much window-shopping. A golden arc of two bows caught my eye. Typical Edwardian design. Heads of an unfamiliar flower garnished the metallic top, along with worn engravings in shapes of leaves. _

_A hand reached up to the top of my head, as if self-conscious. The band was still there, secured by two pins attached by thin chains at the end of the gold. _

_The hand slowly moved down, feeling its way over my fragile hairstyle – two braids pinned together to create a bun, while a few tendrils found their way to escape the messy-looking do – before gently dragging the tips of my fingers over a dropping yellow gemstone earring set in a golden frame. I tug at my other ear to find its twin pinned and secured. _

_The only other item is an amber colored crystal bracelet with five large stones and over a dozen small ones, decorating my left hand. This one sits – as well – in gold. I feel the warmest tonight – on the coldest night of the entire year, so far – than I think I've ever felt before. But how would I know, really? _

_The vehicle starts to slow. I peek from the window. There's a queue forming. I look behind. There is but one other car and then there's only the night. I smirk at this. I'd be sure to make an entrance being one of the last. The show didn't start for another hour and a half. Quite the scandal showing up this late. Mingle is one of – is not the – most important part of the entire night. Never forget to mention whatever charity brought you here this evening. _

_Another quarter of an hour and I'm the next in line to descend. Jumping out onto the cobblestoned drive, the driver wobbled around the back and stand before my door. The lanky man with a too large mustache brings the handle down and opens the door to me. More chilly air enters the compartment. I set my face – that of one of high society. _

_The man offers me a hand and I take it without a word, stepping carefully down on the slippery stones. I take a second to observe the world before me. The night is silent. There is no wind. I bring the cloak closer around me, making sure I wouldn't forget any human mannerisms tonight. Fidgeting wasn't my strong point. _

_Below where the first sets of columns begin are several lanterns, making the façade illuminate in a ghostly appearance. The golden statues in each side of the top of the building remain in partial darkness but still find a way of letting every person know they're there. _

_The dome is just visible at the top of the opera house. The protection seeming so delicate. I wonder how many hours it took to finish this architectural beauty. This is the first time I lay eyes on Palais Garnier. Build thirty-seven years ago to the date. People from all over the world come here just to witness the masterpiece. _

_I take attentive steps, barely listening as the door to the coupé closes and the man hurries back to his post to let the other, and last, car through. I walk forward, listening to the click of my heels on the steps as I come to the grand entrance. I stop once inside and a young man comes up to me, helping me off with my coat. I let the fabric slide down my arms. I don't miss the boy giving me a look from top to bottom. I let the praise go straight to my head with a secret smirk. _

_The hall is filled. People stand in groups of five or more. The nearest pause as I take cautious steps, watching the stone and artwork. I hear them whisper. Gossiping. They've heard of my arrival to town but no one had yet to spot me. I deem to ignore them all until I've seen the staircase. I've heard too much and experienced much too little. _

_The marble clicks beneath me as I come to the middle, standing below the enormous skylight. I let my gaze linger from the glass to the ceiling paintings. It's magnificent. Of course. Nothing short of perfection, I would presume. _

_But now my head comes down. I find the hall still buzzing but not of the ballet. As I look about me, they all turn their heads, redirecting their questions and answers at their partners. What's my name? How old am I? Where did I come from? Have I money? What of my parents? Surely I couldn't be over the age of sixteen and on my own. But did I come from money? _

_It is almost too much and I find it hard not to laugh at them. I turn out my fan, letting a cool breeze sweep over me and at the same time shield my smiling lips from the rest of the world. _

_I leave the open view and start for the next level. They cast envious and longing glances at me. None of which I return in any fashion. But their questions did light a spark in me. As I was preparing myself to stay here for a while, what was I going to answer them? Surely I couldn't keep one lie coming after another. I would need a good story. Something believable but still an unreachable fantasy. _

_I wonder how I look to them. In a technical sense, I was one of them. I dressed the same; I wore my hair in a similar fashion. But I must appear completely alien to them as well. My skin was pearly white – a desire amongst socialites but rarely acquired to the full extent of how I looked. I was careful of my eyes. In a better way of disguising myself, I'd made sure to feed one week before at the latest, letting the irises darken to an acceptable color. _

_My secretive smirk fell from my lips. Maybe it was a mistake coming here. Not to the opera house but Paris. Thinking I could stay in one place for a longer period of time. Maybe it was foolish. But why shouldn't I get to have a life? Or the illusion of one? Obviously nothing like last time. _

_Stop! _

_Tonight I wasn't going to mull over this any longer. I wasn't even going to acknowledge I'm a vampire. I just wanted to watch the ballet! _

"_Ce qui est troublant d'un tel être belle cette belle nuit?" (What is troubling such a beautiful being this lovely night?) An aging man with a monocle and a dangerously high top hat smile warmly, and a little creepily, at me. A fizzing amount of champagne in a crystal flute came up as the man took a small but generous gulp. I leaned in close, as if sharing a secret. _

"_Avoir des gens me regarder me rend nerveux." (Having people watch me makes me nervous.) He laughed and leaned in himself, putting a light hand on my arm. If he noticed my temperature, he never said a thing. _

"_Leur écorce est pire que leur morsure. Croyez-moi." (Their bark is worse than their bite. Trust me.) I chuckle lightly, nodding. _

"_Je fais." (I do.) I assured and watched him hobble away to his party. I shut out their voices, ascending the marble stairs to the second level. People were coming and going in rapid paces. I had emerged with the crow. I believe my goal had been reached. And yet I felt no contentment. _

_I worked my way to the upper level and push myself against the throngs to get to my very own balcony spot. Or at least I thought it was my own. As I entered, two humans were already seated in the small compartment. I draw up short, thinking I have the number wrong. But I do not. _

_Taking my seat, I'm overly aware of how small the compartment actually is. I'd made no awareness of it before but now I see I should have made sure only I had the rights to this particular balcony. _

_The thick red velvet curtains sheltered us enough from the rest of the gathering that I was sure no one would notice just how uncomfortable I was. My hands fists and I don't dare to breathe. I remind myself to fidget every once in a while but with my lack of oxygen, I had no desire to uphold my charade. _

_As the first act ends and a small recess is in need before act two, I slip out quickly, finding an empty room to collect myself. I have a hard time filling my lunges' with enough oxygen. The corset cuts off any and all floods. I want to rip it off but I stop myself, taking small and shallow breaths before feeling as if back to normal. My minutes are up. I should head back. But my feet won't carry me across the hall. Instead, I stay in there until I hear the curtains rise one more time. _

_I get out into the hall when I'm stuck face to face with the city's biggest gossip. Lauren Mallory. A socialite from the hills of Colorado, she married an English banker who finds an excuse to go on business trips far away. Apparently it's a requirement for a banker. She's let loose on the streets of Paris this time. I've never had the misfortune to run into her before. _

"_Isabella, is it?" I nod. She speaks not a word of French and considering she's supposed to stay here for months, I could find much pleasure in how she'd go about translating her every wish. "Why are you not inside watching the show? It is quite magnificent, is it not?" _

"_Of course," I assure in a deep French accent, wanting any excuse to get away from here. "I only sought a bit of fresh air. It's much too crowded in there for me. I'm afraid I don't quite have the patience for shows anymore." She snorted delicately. _

"_Why I cannot fathom how you could ever have such a ridiculous thought. Why it's as if you haven't been properly trained." I resist rolling my eyes. "Honestly, how dare you even-" suddenly she stops. I gauge her expression for a moment before realizing what had caught her eye. Steps come towards me from behind. _

_They're light; the sound vanished into the plush carpet. Breath coming and going in a calculating rhythm. It's a man. Sounds of fabric from his suit ruffled together, indicating is wasn't one of the works but someone with far more expensive taste. _

_But none of that mattered. For as soon as I became aware of the presence behind me, the breath I'd saved washed out in a humanly inaudible gasp. I knew what was behind me. Someone like me. Another vampire. Decades have gone by without so much as a peep from any supernatural being and this is the time for a meeting? _

_I swallowed back the venom that pooled in my mouth. But my body betrayed me as my limbs tensed; ready for action. But there was a human present. There was a charade to be upheld. He must know of the consequences if he were to engage in some form of activity the human wouldn't understand. _

_Doesn't matter now. He's right behind me. I wait for him to pass but he stops behind me, standing slightly to my left. Catching me by surprise, he puts a hand on the right side of my waist and pulls me closer until we're flushed together. I compose my face as to not look so shocked, hoping Lauren doesn't see through me. _

"_There you are," he man says softly. "I've been looking all over for you." His thumb gently draws circles on my hip bone. _

"_I just needed some air," I reply, my voice equally soft. I don't dare sneak a glance but continue to gauge Lauren's expression. Her eyes go from both our faces, seeming unsure and confused. _

"_How are you this evening Lauren?" the man asks, sounding nothing but pleasant. _

"_I'm very well. Thank you Edward." Edward... Nice name. Young. "I wasn't aware you and Isabella were…" she let the sentence end there, wanting either or both of us to finish it. I stayed quiet. After all, this was his doing. _

"_Isabella and I are old school friends. We just happened to run into each other the other day." _

"_I see. Well it was wonderful meeting you Edward. We must lunch one day." _

"_Of course," he replied with a light chuckle. We watched Lauren saunter down the hall, disappearing behind a door towards the end. Before I had time to move a muscle, cold lips were at my ear, whispering fast. _

"_Don't try to run. She's still listening." His hand tightened on my waist. "Come with me." I let him lead me away, always keeping me in front of him. We scurry down the massive marble staircase, going to the floor level before he shoves me under the stony steps – where we're completely shield from passersby above us. _

_I finally get a good look at him. He's extremely handsome. Bright brown hair with shades of copper and gold. Face rightly angled with thin lips. His hands looked strong with long fingers. He was lean but still muscular. A foot taller than me. His face still held a small touch of innocence you'd find in a teenager. He wasn't much older than I, if even that. I remembered his voice now. So clear with a bit of husk in the back. And, of course, his eyes were the same as mine. Red irises staring back at me. _

_He seemed to be concentrating deeply on something. I wasn't quite sure what. My eyes narrowed in thought. "What is this?" My question seemed to bring him out of his stupor. _

"_What is what?" _

"_You… here…at this particular night."_

"_I've been in the city for weeks. If anything you're the intruder who needs to explain yourself." _

"_So this is a coincident?" I didn't know too much about my kind. I knew, of course, that there were others. Silly to think otherwise. But I wasn't expecting to run into one. Literally. In a place like this, no less. _

"_I would suppose so." We turned silent. I cocked my head to the side, finding myself relaxing. Which was odd considering I don't relax in front of strangers. Though I suppose we're not strangers. But then again, we are, aren't we? We have nothing in common than our race. Does every dog greet one another with the same confusion and apprehension? _

_I found it uncomfortable when his stare turned forceful. His eyes narrowed and how eyebrows pulled together in confusion. I leaned my frame back, trying to understand this weird behavior. _

"_Sorry," the- Edward said. _

"_Then stop staring at me. It's making me uncomfortable." _

"_This is so strange. I can usually hear anyone," he was speaking low, not really to me but not just to himself. _

"_Good for you," I shot out, feeling more than a bit silly. Above us, thousands of hands clapped together, signaling the end of the show. Had we really been speaking for so long? I remembered the tightness in my chest on the balcony. So many people… I shouldn't have come here so unprepared. I know my control but I shouldn't take such high risks. _

_While I no doubt wanted to stay and possibly find out more about this Edward character, his eyes were far brighter than mine. He'd recently fed. Perhaps this night even. _

_My gaze linger on the ceiling as I work myself around him, grapping the lace around my knees and hold it up so I wouldn't tear it. _

"_You shouldn't risk it," Edward says while easily keeping up with me. The coat check guy comes out with my coat but I ignore him, walking right onto the empty square-like platform which frames the buildings front. _

My gaze lingers on the same spot before working its way up the façade. Two giant beams of light shot into the air, waving mechanically. They've gone all out tonight. Good. More humans, the lesser chance of a scene.

More and more people were arriving, their faces obscured by the heavy masks. I waited across the street, watching everyone closely. The roads had been shut down. Half of Paris is watching tonight.

The sun has just set. I can finally move from my immobile state. While it is most comfortable, it's not suitable to stay frozen for longer. Soon enough dust will gather on our skin and we'll start to look translucent.

I slid my coat up and over my shoulders, buttoning it tightly. The wind had stopped, snow fell like dust. I walked across the street, hands in pockets and my phone starts to buzz. Without blinking, I put the piece to my ear, letting whoever it is on the line speak first.

"I didn't think you'd pick up."

"I didn't think you'd call."

"Seems we've reached an impasse."

"Seems we have… What can I do for you Edward?"

"I need you to rethink what you're doing." I kept going, not letting anything get to me tonight.

"Why's that?"

"You're making a mistake." My heels echoed on the street. The whisks of hair not secured in my braided hairdo tickled my neck and the top of my shoulders.

"Even if you did know this to one hundred percent, why would I give a shit?"

"Because you know its mistake too?" I breathed a chuckle, coming to the entrance. Letting the boy behind me slip off my coat, the airy fabric of my dress flowed into a puddle around my feet. I'd kept it simple tonight. Light grey gown – almost a faint violet – with the bust in a metallic shade of silver.

Antique black cubic zirconia studs in each ear, a white gold and crystal ring, pieces of white painted glass in the shapes of feathers attached to the five carat clear white diamond. And a mask. Darker shade of my dress with feminine glittery patterns.

Maybe it doesn't sound so simple when put like that but it was basic when compared to my fellow masquerade lovers.

"I do not know such a thing," I said in my accent of the evening; British.

"You're not French tonight?" I chuckled and brought the phone closer, as if I was sharing a secret.

"People are more likely to speak of me if I'm not one of them. The French are nice but very judgmental. Old habits are hard to break, I suppose." They started noticing me now. I kept an easy-going smile on my face, looking nothing but innocent.

"And what if you meet him. Then what?" I hesitated. Truth be told, I had no idea what I would say. I was hoping he'd let me dismember him.

"I can't talk now." I hung up and put the phone into my antique metallic and silk clutch.

I moved slowly down the hallway, every heartbeat registered. Every scent. No doubt each and every human smelled delicious tonight. But I was well fed and nothing would hinder me in finding the man who condemned me to an eternity of purgatory and constant misery.

No matter how much I love being that I am – invincible, immortal, beautiful, unquestionably intelligent – if I'd known from the beginning what I realized after that decade, I would have traded it all for a life of human normality and unimportance.

The stairway was lit with over two-hundred candles. From the chandeliers above us to the four-foot candelabras at every corner. The room was humid, hot. They threw back champagne like it was water.

It wasn't hard to start up a conversation. The curious always flock to the new. Like moth to a flame.

"I must say your arrival has been the highlight of the week." I laugh while smiling charmingly.

"I don't believe that for a second. There must have been others much higher on the social chart than little me."

"I can assure you," the business man continued in his heavy French accent. "People are buzzing about one thing tonight. That is you, my dear." I smiled again, gazing away as if shy of his advances. He wasn't too bad to look at. Unfortunately. However, he was twenty years my senior, very French and very married.

But his words did disturb me. Why hadn't he made himself known? Why hide? That was not his mo. He thrived in the spotlight. Couldn't have been in the city longer than an hour without making himself known in some big dramatic scene.

"I'm looking for someone," I started. "And old friend."

"What's this friend's name? I know just about anyone who's worth knowing."

"Thomas Bradford."

"He is English too, yes?" I nodded.

"I am truly sorry. I do not know a Thomas Bradford." I gave him a weak smile my my mind was reeling.

"He might have gone under a different name. He lies to reinvent himself," I laughed, trying to lighten the mood. It worked.

"I do not know any known either as Thomas or Bradford. They are not too common in France."

"He's one-hundred and eighty-five centimeters, dirty blonde hair." The business man searched his mind, narrowing his eyes. "Ever see interview with the vampire?" A nod. "He has a Brad Pitt feel to him." His eyes lightened.

"Yes… why yes I know that man. But he is not here now. His last stay ended almost two years ago. I only remember because he – and please don't take this the wrong way – but he has this way. He made quite many of us uncomfortable. He went under a very different name thought."

"Different name?"

"Yes. James, I believe. I'm sorry; I don't remember his last name."

"That's quite enough, thank you." I walked away, leaving the business man in awe. The heels of my overly expensive shoes click loudly – to me – on the marble as I ascend the steps. I don't break my walk until I turn two corners and have the entire sea of people at my feet.

My gaze is pending, scanning each and every human, collecting their faces to memory. I partially hide behind a pillar, sometimes turning my head to watch the people behind me. They stand in groups, laughing, drinking. They don't notice me so I am free to observe in a semi creepy way.

And… he's… not… here.

Not a familiar face. Scent. Not even a fucking rumor.

Something's wrong. This was much too easy. Had he been here, I wouldn't have made it to the second floor. I wouldn't even have gotten into the city. He knows me, thought and through. How I think. He made me. He knows it all.

He's not here.

Something feels wrong with me. I'm as energetic and focused as always but something's… off. Alien.

There's a knot in my stomach. My throat feels thick. I swallow but there's nothing in the way. Is someone playing with me? No. I wouldn't have sensed it by now if another vampire was inside the building. Then why do I feel this way? Hollow. Lost. Even scared.

My eyes clench shut and I try to keep the voices of everyone around me at bay but it's fruitless. Their words piece my eardrums. I hear nothing but them and their heartbeats.

So many.

So close.

I want them.

I want them all.

Screaming and dying. They wouldn't take long to find. I could snap their necks. It would be quick. Painless.

My contact covered eyes blew over the masses. It would be a mistake to take them all. To even try was a huge offence. I'd be exposed. Someone would scream. The people outside would hear. They would storm inside, see the dead and see me. I can't hide my true nature in that state.

I would be executed.

Standing there, with every year I have behind me…

Shaking my head, I look up, away from their pathetic exchanges. I needed to get out of here. The dress flows behind me dramatically. It took a lot of restraint not to run out of there. I practically ripped the coat out of the boys hand as I neared the exit. He yelled something at me but I ignored him. Getting out my phone I threw the clutch into the nearest trashcan.

There were a lot of people outside. Too many. Halting on the street, I go down a one-way street, letting the cool air hit my lunges, washing away the last traces of human.

It's not until I get back to my room that let out a breath of air I'd been holding for ten minutes.

Without complete awareness of my actions, I picked up a silver candlestick and threw it against the thing closest breakable; a mirror over the fireplace. It shattered against the floor like confetti.

I felt the sobs try to break out of my chest. I knew my face had fallen. And I let the sadness hit me.

He hadn't showed up. He probably never had any plans to return. He told Riley to tell me the lie. He just needed me to know he'd always own me. Always have the upper hand.

"Bella?" I heard the words but they never registered. Instead I ripped the mask off, feeling my hair come loose from its delicate nest. The paper dropped to the floor, echoing through the room.

"He never came," I whispered, feeling even more desperation. Rubbing my forehead, I felt the rage and sadness bubble to the surface, escaping, letting him see my true pathetic self. I didn't even care how he knew where I was. I didn't waste time thinking why he'd even come.

"Fuck!" I slapped the closest thing, another silver candlestick. It soared across the room and implanted itself in the wall. A frown appeared on my face, deepening as I came to terms of the night's events.

My chest heaved; now from rage. How dare he not show up? How dare he let me be a fool? How dare- a hand lay down on my exposed shoulder. I stiffened, just now acknowledging him.

"You shouldn't be here," I say, my voice low but angry. "Aren't you going to say it?" My lips trembled. I wanted to yell, throw something else. Break things. Kill people.

"Say what?" He'd removed his hand, knowing it would make it worse.

"I told you so?"

"Not my style." I sink down into a nearby chair, my face frozen in-between a mix of astonishment and despair. "Wha-"

"Shh. I need to think," I whispered. What was I supposed to do now? There was only two ways this evening could have ended; either him or me dead. And I'm now forced into a third I never saw coming.

"It wouldn't be wise to go on a hunting spree. He obviously never planned on coming."

"Or he was warned," I muttered. Warned was a bit of an exaggeration.

It's not what you've read. Being a vampire. We don't bleed so a mix of blood to reproduce is not possible. We don't burn in the sun. We don't wear jewellery so we don't burn in the sun. We don't eat or drink human food. While it's physically possibly, it's only idea when trying to blend in. And we don't sleep. Ever.

But that's the basics. No one cares about that anymore. That's the easiest to overcome. What's a burden for some but a gift to others is our power. Sometimes mental. Others physical.

And age. Age has a special power. Not necessarily does age prove as a tool when fighting against someone. Ones diet is always a factor; how often they feed and on what. But when you've been around for a few centuries, your mind works differently. We can't grow muscles but sometimes I wonder. I am a much better fighter now than a hundred years ago and I don't have a schedule system. So maybe we are stronger with age.

But age is more powerful because of knowledge. The older you are, the more they fear you because the more you know the more you're a potential threat or ally.

I've never claimed to be a friend of anyone but I have not built a resistant to not show myself in a certain light. A reputation, if you would. Most know of me for being impulsive, not showing remorse or even guilt. A bitch, basically.

You can't make people like you, but you can make them fear you.

* * *

**AN: I have nothing important to share. PM or review if there's anything that's unclear. Are the flashbacks annoying? Tell me now so I don't include many more or any at all. Maybe some extras that are just flashbacks? **


	14. The robbed that smiles

"_The robbed that smiles steals something from the thief" _

"Come on. Let's go." I shook my head.

"I have to do something first." I slipped the jacket up my arms, not bothering to button it.

"You did that before," he noted as I fastened the yellow rose necklace. "You did something before we left Paris." I didn't answer. "Where are you going?"

"Doesn't concern you."

"Are you- are you hunting?" I didn't even bother with feeling untrustworthy. Instead I shook my head. "Then what?" My gaze shot up in the mirror, looking at him.

"Do you want to come?" He stared back at me.

"Will you tell me where we're going?"

"No. But you'll figure it quickly." Turning, I crossed my arms.

"The sun will be up soon."

I nodded. "I know."

"It's actually coming out."

"I know." He shook his head delicately.

"Why can't you just tell me where you're going?"

"Because you don't get it."

"And I never will, right?" I shrugged.

"Not until you're at least as old as I am." Guarding me carefully, he finally nodded. I took the duffle bag and left, not waiting for him. Though he kept up easily as we hit the sidewalk. I scouted the street for a fast ride.

Down the road, a silver Mercedes idled in the middle of the street. It was still early, people usually left their cars wherever, got up early and moved them. But not four a.m. early. They wouldn't miss it for a few hours. And by then we'd be gone.

I strode up to the car and opened the door. An alarm shouted across the street. Bending down, I popped the hood. Getting in front, I searched for the right cable and pulled it. The alarm died and the hood dropped with a heavy thud.

I took the driver's seat, throwing the duffle bag into the back. Edward came inside as I got the car started. I raced down the street, going too quickly, even for me. But we needed to get there now.

As I made the final turn Edward's eyes widened in recognition. I didn't know if he'd been here before. But I doubted it. He'd have no reason to. Only curiosity and I'd made sure he never had that. Not on this place.

The palace of Versailles stood tall in front of us. The golden gate and rooftop accessories glinted in the near dawn. I did a right, coming closer to the façade before stopping just short of the chapel.

We sat silently in the car for minutes before I opened my door.

"Come on." Edward came silently, following my eyes step. We came went over the gate easily, thudding against the cobblestones. We kept near the building wall. I wasn't sure of the security system. I knew it took almost half an hour to active and deactivate at opening and closing hours. Must be advanced.

We came out to the right, the entire garden in front of us. The sunrise was approaching. I watch the distant light below the trees. I took quick steps, walking across the graveled road, beyond the first of the two identical ponds.

Down stone steps and around a huge and impressive fountain. The water was still going. I watched each individual drop as I passed, coming to the end of the gravel and to the beginning of the grass. I stared going down the hill, not stopping until almost hitting the long and cross-shaped lake. Looking down, I thought back and stepped around until I hit the spot.

Sitting own, Edward joined me, having been good and not said a word the entire walk over here. Opening his mouth now, I shushed him, holding up a finger. The sun came to the tree tops. I felt my skin glow in an unnatural but still considered human-like way.

Just as the globe came above the tops, I turned around and watched the palace soar to life. Every window gleamed. The gold plated roof shone with a bright light. The water in the fountain sparkled.

This view lasts a few seconds. It only appears as the sun hit the exact right airway that the palace wakes up. It's still shining but the feel is gone. And it's okay.

I turn back, looking as the light came onto the lake.

"This is it?" he asked, voice low but incredulous. I roll my eyes and decide to be honest.

"This," I motioned with both hands to the lake, the ground, the palace, "is my favorite place on the entire planet."

"Your favorite place? Why?"

"Nostalgia, etcetera." The skin beneath my eyes twitched as a subtle smirk played at the corners of my lips.

"Bullshit," he accused. My smirk grew wider.

"There might be another reason," I hinted.

"Are you going to tell me?" I gazed over at him, wondering if I should tell him a secret. I knew he could keep it to himself but would he wonder if I really am as human as they?

"Watch the lake." I pointed towards the center. Any human would forever go without noticing but with our vision, a little narrowing of the eyes and it became quite clear.

"The reflection?" I nodded. "What is it?"

"A jewelry box," I said with a sigh. "Old silver box. The details are extraordinary." I took a deep breath, letting the mist of the grass enter my lunges.

"What's in it?"

"A necklace."

"Who's was it?" I tilted my head, leaning back on my elbows.

"A confused and very scared person. Who thought the best option was to dispose of it when they came to ransack the palace." I watched the glint. The lake wasn't deep. Barely two meters. The box would still be as pretty as when first purchased. Dark silver – almost dirty – with angles at each end and two on top, embracing. Worn details all over it, barely a flat surface.

"What's so important with it?"

"I don't know." Edward gave me a look.

"Then why bother hiding it?" When I don't answer he get's ticked. The slightest twitch at the corners of his mouth and his nose. This makes me smirk, knowing I'll always have my secrets. "We should leave. They'll open-"

"In three hours and sixteen minutes." I gazed at him. "I think we can spare two more minutes." Sighing, he remained seated. He was free to leave. I always preferred coming here alone. After that thought, I started to wonder if he really was in the dark about my thoughts.

"How often to do come here?"

"Every time I visit Paris. It's been a few years now. Unfortunately." My eyes train over the grounds, drawing their way right, staring into trees that hid the place I'd spend so many moments. "It's really quite beautiful here, isn't it?" Edward nods after a thought. Then he chuckled. I frown at him.

"I didn't think you could say something like that."

"Like what?"

"Human. You really like it here, don't you?" I look back at the lake, a last glance at the sparkle underneath before sadness hits me. I conceal it well, though.

"It's just as pretty. Almost every plant is the same. They care for it as often." A deep sigh. "And yet it's not the same. I think I miss it. And not just the people but the life I had here." I gaze goes down and I sit back up, turning the tips of my fingers over each other. "I had fun. I used to be fun." I gave him a smirk. "The kind of fun you'd approve of."

"I don't believe that," he shot back with a smirk of his own.

"It's true. I was meticulously boring."

"Its fun, isn't it?" I shrugged.

"For a while, I suppose. But it's a fantasy. And they shouldn't last. No matter how much you want them to." We stay quiet for a while, the sounds of our breaths mixed with the gentlest breeze. Then Edward spoke. I was sure he'd ask to leave again but he surprised me.

"When were you here?" I hummed.

"I came here… in 1787." That was a too vague an answer.

"How long did you stay?"

"A few months."

"Months?"

"Mhm." He continued to stare at me. "We don't have time for a story telling now."

"Then give me the for-dummies version."

"I came, I met, I left. There; the end."

"That's a PowerPoint presentation." I took a deep breath, watching my hands again.

"I'm allowed to have my secrets Edward. You know, it's not fair what you do. You take people's private and most intimate thoughts and you violate them. They're not yours to listen to."

"You can't honestly think I'm the bad one out of the two of us."

"Why not? I've never hid what I am. I kill people. I drink their blood. I like it. A lot. So much in fact I can't stop. And that's okay. I've done alright for the last couple of centuries."

Edward looks as if he's thinking of a comeback but winds up without one. Instead he falls back, hand folding over his stomach and he looks at the sky.

I watch him for a second before shrugging and falling back myself. We're inches away from each other.

"Why won't you tell me stuff about yourself?"

"Honesty goes two ways," I noted.

"Yes it does," he breathed. Turning my head to watch him, see if he was joking or not, I looked back at the sky.

"I hated you for a long time." Edward turned his head towards me, his face thoughtful but also down. "Not just because you left. I knew that was inevitable. But because you were there in the first place." I turned my head as well. "I felt so much like a teenager. Self-absorbed. Feeling sorry for myself. Thinking my existence wasn't fair." I turned my head back towards the sky, his eyes still on me though.

Processing my words Edward continues after a few moments pause.

"What made you leave him?" My mouth turned down and my shoulders slumped. "I won't tell anyone." I sat up, leaning my elbow on my folded knees, head in my palm, facing Edward. He stared up at me, looking so much like the Greek God girls gushed about.

"One of the first things he told me was to never let a human see me in the sun." Edward still sparkled like a diamond and it was hard finding words. It's not just humans who find our beauty desirable. "I was going to surprise him. I felt so good about myself. I managed to walk through town without killing anyone. He always chastised me on staying inconspicuous. But then I found him. In the sun. With a human." I raised a brow before Edward got it.

"Oh."

"Mhm. Oh. At first I was pissed. But then my anger faded – almost immediately. I thought I would have been angrier but oddly enough I felt… relieved. And yet completely ashamed."

"Why ashamed?" his voice was soft, like velvet. Comforting.

"Because I finally realized how easily I had been manipulated. And not just as a frail and insignificant human. But as a strong and extremely durable vampire. It didn't do wonders to my self-esteem, I'll tell you that." My voice is gruff and sour, ending his questions for now.

Edward sat up next to me, taking his hand at the curtain of my hair and pulling it back over my shoulder. His touch I didn't have to tense from. I watched his hand glide over my shoulder before it felt o his side, keeping him propped up.

"Why do it? Why chose to be weak?"

There's a moment of anger but it quickly fades as he knows I do not beat around the bush and rather than try to mend anyone's feelings, I'm brutally honest.

"I don't want to be-" I knew what word he wanted to finish with but besides the fact that he'd chosen a life of invisibility and dullness, he was still a decent person. I wasn't sure why he cared whether or not he hurt my feelings. Without knowing my thoughts and therefore my true feelings, he couldn't be sure I even had any.

"Like I said," I continued; my gaze fixed and piercing, "weak." I'm ready to leave now. But as I stand up, my coming movements are haltered and I'm frozen, no doubt displaying an expression of shock, confusion and worst of all, fear.

Edward's at my side immediately. I never joke about fear. About something that could potentially show me as weak. "What is it?" His voice was low, hushed and urgent. But I don't connect his words. I'm in my own world now.

I hear myself breathe the word no but the next time I register anything in regards to movements and words, I'm standing before the crossing of the lake, watching the glimmering sight of the jewelry box. Five feet down than the last time I saw it.

My right foot extends towards the ledge when a hand catches my arm. I turn my head quickly.

"What are you doing?" I twist my arm, getting out of his grasp while simultaneously pushing him back. Edward staggers as I plunge in the icy water. Of course I do not feel the needles against my skin like a human would have. Hypothermia would have set and many more minutes would have been a sure death.

My hand gently secures the silver ornament tightly but not too tightly as I push to the surface. It's not a long trip. I'm on the grass less than two minutes after I jumped inside. My hair is plastered around my forehead, neck and upper part of my exposed chest. Edward comes down to his knees as well as I take great care in opening the box as smoothly and gently as possible.

The sight I'm met with disturbs me beyond words. For twelve seconds.

Empty.

There is no torn lining. The inside is dry, perfectly sealed in the airtight compartment. But it's empty. The red velvet interior begging for secrets and treasures. But not mine. Not anymore. My eyes finally leave the box, coming up slowly but now they were burning.

My hand drops the box, letting it sink into the frosty crystallized ground with a metallic sigh. Edward takes the box away from the ground, letting his eyes and the tips of his fingers roam over the silvery treasure.

"Where did you get this?"

I find my voice shockingly steady and it unnerves me how angry I could possibly be. I don't even recognize myself anymore. "Trianon." My head jerked in the right direction.

"What's special about the necklace?" I shake my head. "Tell me Bella."

"I don't know." His hands grasp my shoulders, making me look at him.

"Then why are you freaking out? Why hide it?"

"Because of who gave it to me."

"Who gave it to you?" I looked down, my mind coming up with too many explanations, none of them viable. I thought of the alterative. Another unviable option. None of this was acceptable. That box has never been moved in over four centuries. Or has it? No. I would have known. It's always been in the exact middle of the cross. I may be impulsive but I don't make mistakes. Until today.

Unacceptable.

"Bella!" Edward shook me back into reality. "I can't help you if you don't let me."

"Doesn't matter."

"Why? I don't understand." I snorted, standing up, feeling angrier than I've ever felt in my entire life. And that's saying something.

Shaking my head, I turn the possibilities again.

"Who knew?" I shook my head again.

"No one. I was the last to leave."

"Someone must have seen you."

"If they did, they're dead now."

"They could have talked."

"But why? Crazy lady throwing a jewelry box into the lake? Not really on the radar when there's a revolution going on."

"Who gave it to you? Just tell me." I narrow my eyes.

"Why? Why do you have to know?"

"Because I'll help you find it." My mind stops.

"Help me?" He nods. How odd. He was actually sincere. There wasn't a hint of lie anywhere in his topaz eyes. "Why would you do that?" I've calmed considerably but don't let my demeanor relax you into a trusting state. I was far more dangerous in that moment than any other in a long time. It's a good thing a human wasn't around. I wanted to kill something. Or someone.

"Because you'd never ask."

"Because I don't need help."

"I'll tell you whenever someone's lying."

"I'm pretty good at getting the truth out when I need it."

"Without hurting anyone."

"I can't promise I won't hurt anyone." That had him stop. He knew I was speaking the truth without reading my mind. I was very impatient. "I'm very angry right now," I say in the calmest voice I can. "I'm not sure how long I'll be able to keep up this façade. It will break. Soon."

"What's you first instinct."

"I would very much like to kill someone."

"Not for food," he says in a realization. I shake my head, my eyes never leaving his.

"And I'm feeling creative. I might go on a spree-"

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you have this ludicrous image of me. I'll never measure up to it nor do I want to. I'd rather you know now what you sign up for." He nods but doesn't seem to hear me. Or maybe he does but he refuses to acknowledge my warning. I can't help that. If he wants to stay ignorant and blind; that is none of my business.

"I'll come if you tell me who gave you the necklace." I don't like help. I'd rather deal with things on my own. But I won't mind knowing people's most inner thoughts beforehand. It's leverage. One I could afford.

However reluctant I am, I nod my head slowly.

"Deal." Bending down, I retrieve the box and throw it into the lake once more. Edward waits patiently. "We'll have to get back to Paris." He quirks a brow. "I need new clothes," I explain. "And a lead." Seeing his mouth open, I quickly add, "and then I give you my word I'll tell you anything you want to know."

* * *

**AN: Sorry for being gone so long. I haven't been struggling with writers block but I had almost finished an entire story and somehow, my computer thought it appropriate to erase every chapter so that was pretty shitty.  
**


	15. Maybe this world is another planet's Hel

"_Maybe this world is another planet's Hell"_

We check into a five star hotel. I allow myself some luxuries though I knew Edward wasn't accustomed to my way of living. Though he would have easily adapted. We're nothing if not flexible. But I liked luxury at times. Made me feel like in the old days where people would shower me with anything I wanted. All I had to do was snap my fingers and they'd come running.

My duffle bag drops the floor and I make a beeline for the bathroom. I turn on the water in the tub, and fill it with bubbles. I knew he probably wouldn't understand but I like my small human moments. Just because there's no need doesn't mean there's no want. I tear out of my old clothes and jump inside. The tub is small, even by my standards. It's made for design, not use.

When I've soaked for a good five minutes there's a knock on the door. I sigh loudly, indicating – I presume – that it was an invitation to enter. Edward leans against the doorway, looking the epitome of calm and control.

"Yes?"

"Time for my questions?" he asked. I gesture with my hands towards the tub.

"I'm kind of busy."

"So I see."

"Would you mind leaving?"

"Yes." I sigh again, my back falling against the metal.

"I'm not going to bolt."

"I didn't think you would."

"Liar," I accused, slipping further down the white bubbly mess.

"Maybe I like the view," he teased, the corners of his lips barely twitching. I cocked my head, a half smirk grazing my lips.

"Don't you have your morals?"

"I'm not a goodie-goodie."

"Of course not," I mock, letting my legs bend so the top of my knees are visible atop the mountain of soap.

"Because I'm not like you?"

"Because you're exactly like me," I counter. I let my head rest against the top of the tub, watching him. "It's frightening actually. If I didn't know any better I'd say we were siblings. However that would be disturbing and probably illegal." He smirked with an almost inaudible snicker. "Not to mention creepy," I add.

"How so?"

"You are watching me in the tub, very naked," I remind him.

"Really? You're naked? I never would have guessed." I roll my eyes, tired of the charade.

"Can't you make yourself useful and do… something?"

"Do what?"

"Anything besides watching me."

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" My snort echoed in the tiled room. "Why can you play games but I can't?"

"I'm much better at it and have had more practice."

"Ah yes." There's something behind his eyes that I can't quite understand. My own then draw to the device in his hand. I had failed to notice it before but now I watch as he absentmindedly turn it over against his leg. It's a new model. Touch. Black in color.

"Who are you calling?"

"No one."

"Then why do you have a phone?" he smirked.

"I'm glad you asked." He looked almost – dare I think it – giddy.

"The way you're acting," I note as he sits down on the floor near my head, "is the same reaction humans get when intoxicated by either alcohol or various illegal substances."

"It's called drunk or high." I rolled my eyes.

"Either way, why are you acting like this?" He turned the screen towards me and I stared back at a white and black page with much writing on it. I took the phone from him, scrolling up and down the page, just now realizing what he'd been looking at. "Did you Google me?" I asked with the upmost incredulousness in my voice.

"Yes. I was more surprised when I noticed there were several matches." I threw the phone back at him.

"Why don't you tell me what it says?" He leaned back against the wall, head next to mine.

"You were an only child. Mother died giving birth. Your father was a judge – very respectable – and then you moved to Salem, Massachusetts."

"Is that all?"

"It also says you disappeared."

"Disappeared?" I asked, feigning shock. "However did that happen?"

"No one knows. One day you were set to marry Michael Newton and the next you were gone without a trace." His voice died down. Marry? I wasn't engaged. I was… I was just eighteen. "You never told me you were engaged."

"I didn't know," I told him, feeling mystified.

"You don't remember?" I shook my head.

"Does it say what happened in my absence?" Edward pushed his thumb up and down the screen, reading fast.

"They executed four more witches that year." I huffed a chuckle, rolling my eyes in ridicule.

"It never fails to surprise me just how stupid humans are."

"What do you mean?" Edward mumbled, still looking through other searches.

"I mean that if they really thought witches occupied the town, did they think they were dumb enough to get caught?" Edward looked at me as if searching for any hidden meaning in my words. I looked away, content in letting him mull over my answers without trying to get anything out of me.

"Want me to get you some clothes?" I shake my head.

"No. You'll probably get something ugly." He laughs. "What?"

"You remind me of Alice." Then he gets up off the floor, brings in two large paper shopping bags before closing the door quietly.

I slip into the water fully, letting my hair rid itself of nature's impurities. As I emerge, I wrap an impossibly soft towel around my form and starts on drying my hair the best I could with my hands.

There are numerous choices in the bags. I feel sad I won't be able to wear them all. But first I put back on the practically ancient mood ring on my right index finger. I let the yellow rose necklace linger on the marble bathroom counter since I would no longer wear it. I couldn't possibly part myself with it forever but I could momentarily place it somewhere I knew no one would be disturbed by its presence.

A pair of dark jeans fitting me like a glove slipped up my too short legs. I went through the whole human charade. But who knew when I'd get the opportunity to change clothes next time.

Edward started speaking lowly. I tuned their conversation out. I had no interest in what they had to say. Did they think they were perfect?

With a roll of my eyes and much strain on my patience, I picked out a thin black cotton deep v-neck shirt. The sleeves ended right by my knuckles. A vantage-looking double layered onyx fleur-de-lis necklace with the pendant resting right below the apex of my collarbones. Back loose wedge ankle boots with zippers on the sides on and I was done. Almost.

I took my time with my hair. Deciding against my precious look of hard curls, I decided in favor for making softer and fewer curls, creating the illusion my hair was much thicker than it actually is.

I finished with a black thin-ish jacket reeking of PVC. Reek might have been an exaggeration. Either way as I opened the door, Edward quickly pulled his phone down and turned off the screen.

"What did they say?" I asked; feeling strangely exhilarated.

"Nothing interesting," he muttered, brows crinkling his alabaster skin.

"They didn't warn you not to listen to the crazy bitch?" My words worked. He smirked.

"Something like that."

"They don't trust me, do they?" A smirk played at my lips.

"Can you blame them?"

"I suppose not." I looked out the window towards the descending sun. We would leave within the hour.

"Where are we going?" Stepping forwards with a dubious look, I took a seat on the vanity stool.

"I'm giving you an out."

"What?"

"You're not going with me. It's been fun. Somewhat." He looked confused.

"I don't get it. Is everything just a game to you?" I nodded with a 'duh' expression. "If you're doing this to prot-"

"Oh don't flatter yourself pretty boy. I'm a loner."

"Bullshit," he accused.

"No I really am a loner."

"You don't want to do this yourself."

"You don't even know what this is. And you don't know what I want or don't want to do."

"I know you." I shake my head.

"No. Not really." He stood.

"I'm following you if I have to though it's kind of creepy so I prefer not to." I quirked a brow. The sun went down beyond the horizon. "Now grab your shit and let's go." This is a new side of Eddie. I liked it.

With the same teasing smile I gathered my shit and we left the room to steal a new car.

~O~

The Maserati purred along the highway. We passed numerous car, most too blinded by the nightly vision to notice as we flew in an inhuman pace. I had just finished the tale of whom it was we were going to see.

His name is Dmitri – which used to be Demetrio but ever since immigrating to Russia many odd years ago, he has given up his Italian heritage. I met Dmitri as soon as arriving in a small forgettable town 60 miles outside of Saint Petersburg in 1703. He sought me out.

I was aware there were other immortals but I was still too paranoid to even attempt contact and when not a week had gone by, he was sitting on the house I occupied. His first question was if I was a threat. I quickly explained that that was not the case.

He taught me much on how to survive and stay out of the way of others. He told me of the Volturi. The basics. Names. Most of them. Though he made is vehemently clear they were not to be crossed and gave me the rules. I've never cared for rules and while I thought it preposterous that anyone could hurt my – physically – I obeyed.

Then they came and I had to flee. I've spoken to Dmitri many times over the years and more than once visited. But he is not a man anyone wants to stay near for too long. To clarify; he has issues. Deep ones. I have thought he may be clinically psychotic but he's never posed a threat to me and therefore I've never said a word. Not that I would either way. He's very old. At least a millennium older than I. You don't mess with vampires that old. It goes without saying.

"So what's his deal?" Edward asked as we neared Berlin. We would drive for Warszawa before getting on a plane.

"What do you mean?" I countered, not paying too close attention to him at the moment.

"Why would he know where the necklace is?"

"He won't," I clarified. "But he would know what to do since it's gone."

"And you trust him?"

"I don't trust anyone. But if I did he would be very high on the list."

"Why?"

"So many questions," I mumbled. "Because he's helped me in the past." The sheer look he gave me was enough to tell me he didn't think that sufficed as an actual answer. "He's impartial to everyone. Unless they try to cross him."

"But what does he get out of?" I thought about telling him about Dmitri's radical behavior but thought better of it. Need not stir the pot too much.

"I think he craves company too much to not help anyone who needs it." There was a silence that stretched several minutes before Edward spoke again.

"What happened when they came? How did you escape?" My lips pursed.

I could lie. Say I outran them. Though it's probably too unlikely for him to believe.

"I hear a carriage approach," I started. "I knew I couldn't outrun them. So I got to the road and played the sympathy card. There was an old woman, much kinder than I deserved. She and her grandson were going into the city and they offered me shelter."

"And?"

"And I left before morning." I licked my lips. "But I… I came back a few years later. Fifteen, to be exact."

"Why?" he asked, turning his head to fully look at me. I shrugged, not completely sure either.

"I don't know. I was in town and I… I don't know. I was walking down the street and the house – mansion – was right in front of me. The old woman was dead. But her grandson still lived there. I guess I felt bad for leaving the way that I had. But I thought by sparing their lives I'd done my part. That night when we were riding into the city she asked for my name. I've lied so many other times – and if you tell anyone I've said this I will kill you – but it almost felt too cruel. It's the first time I ever called myself Bella."

"Really?" Genuine interest. How interesting.

"Yes. It's been Isabella or Marie. Sometimes both, depending on where I was though I always loathed that hyphen. It was mostly Marie."

"And then you just left?" I hesitated, shrugging again.

"Not exactly. I might have stayed. A few months. With him. In the house."

"Lived there?" A nod. "Permanently?" Another nod followed by ten seconds of silence. "What happened to him?" I sighed.

"Why do you ask questions you don't want an answer to?"

"Maybe I do." I knew he expected a chuckle or a huff of indifference but I couldn't muster up any fake expressions. My mind wanders to the last memory of Alexei. I wish I could say it was a happy one or at least peaceful. It wasn't.

_Russia 1718 _

_The moon is high and full of luster. I watch is as the horse takes me further inside the forest. Alexei is much further down the trail than I. He moves to watch me, smiling and laughing at my pace. _

"_Come on. We don't have all night." I shake my head with a small smile but I'm still as hollow as during tea this morning. I knew this would be the last night we'd have together. And if he wanted us to hunt the human way, we would. _

_It doesn't take more than two seconds. I still don't know how I couldn't have seen it coming. Even if I can't witness the future. But the night had been so good. I'd resolved myself into allowing this one last play of fun before leaving. As much as I wanted him to forget me – which he would in time – I still hoped he would take his time. _

_One second eh was riding before me, chuckling at some inner monologue and the next he was on the ground and this… _thing_ was tearing at him. Two seconds. It's amazing what can happen in two seconds. Humans don't understand the value of time – though they should since they don't have nearly enough of it. _

_I remember everything in detail and still I can't follow it in clarity. I know I jumped down my horse. I also know the beast had not been known of me before I crashed my arm through his ribs. He charged for a bite but I snapped its neck, throwing the furry thing to the side. _

_The sight before me was almost too much. The boy who peeked at me from behind his grandmother's curtained cloak was lying on his back, blood soaking through a deep gash in the front of his chest. His face was ashy white. The eyes staring back at me, turning grey. _

"He died," I finally answer.

"By you?" I don't miss the subtle grim in his voice but decides against noticing it. I simply shake my head and look out the window. But Edward's not done yet. "Didn't you find it at least difficult to not – I don't know – eat him? Or the staff for that matter?" I huffed but it was weak and strained.

"Not really."

"And he didn't find it odd you never ate or slept?"

"Not really." Then, because his tone was irritating me and when something irritates me I want to hurt it, I couldn't resist adding; "He knew what I was." Edward kept his gaze straight forward. "I told him every gory detail and he didn't care." He's very silent. Turning my frame, I lean my back against the seat, boot clad feet on the dash board. "Why don't you just ask me?"

"Ask you what?"

"The question that's running through your head right now."

"I don't know what you-"

"Did I love him?" His mouth tightens. "Love is a chemical imbalance of the brain which tells what attracts us about the opposite sex. In the scientific way, I did love him. And I suppose a part of me – the one percent that's human did love him in a human way. But that's not the question, is it? You're wondering if I loved him more than you." I knew I hit a nerve by the way his arms tightened and his grip on the steering wheel threatened to pull it off.

"Don't answer it," he almost pleads.

"Why not? Wouldn't it give you the closure you've been dying for?"

"I don't want to know. Either way."

"You're not ticked off that I might have cared for a human more than I have for you?"

"I don't care." But his voice held no conviction. I move quickly closer to him. One hand on the back of his seat and the other balancing myself on the console. My lips were right by his ear. He tried to turn his head by my right hand flashed up, grabbing his chin, making him stare out the window. "What are you doing?" he demanded. I breathed a chuckle into his ear.

"I'm just making sure that if your sister decided to pop in on our little conversation that this wasn't an image she would like to see more of."

"She wouldn't do that," he countered.

"Ah but see; since they don't trust me, I can't very well trust them now can I?" My voice is teasingly sweet, not even a hint of sarcasm. "Now pay attention because I'm only going to say this once and I'm not sure why I'm reveling this to you. Maybe it's the pleading look you get every time you ask a question and I answer short and cut or maybe it's the sullen expression you're displaying right now. Maybe I'm feeling generous." I gently let his chin go and drag my mood stone covered index finger slowly down his buttoned down shirt covered arm until I reach his elbow where the fabric pools after being rolled up.

"He was the first boy I ever cared for since… Thomas. And in a way I'll always _like_ him more than any other." Edward swallows, still staring out the windshield. "And the fact that he completely accepted me without hesitation… I won't deny I didn't appreciate that." My thumb draws lazy circles against his skin, tugging at the fabric now and then. I ghost it up his arm, over his shoulder to where the top button. I don't undo it but play with the plastic circle. Then my finger hooks into the shirt. I feel the threads want to tear as they would if I commanded it. "But we had fun," I continued. "And I didn't have to pretend. I like that." My head tilts slightly, leaning against the headrest.

My voice turns hushed and sad. "And then you left. I think I've always resented you for that. Just a little." My finger leaves his shirt, venturing up his chest. I let the pad of my fingertip feel the contour of the side of his neck. "No matter how much you try not to you can be… unbelievable." I smirk, biting my bottom lip. "I like you Edward. So much in fact that I know I'll probably never hurt you." I both heard and saw him swallow again. I liked that I was making him nervous, if I was translating his body language correctly.

With a chuckle I asked; "Do I make you nervous?"

"Yes," he answered almost immediately.

"Why?"

"Many reasons."

"Care to give me two?" My right hand went back down towards a mock balancing illusion on the console while the left went in between the end of the seat and the headrest to play with his hair.

"Your behavior. It changes fast. Too fast. Makes me nervous not knowing your next move since they've all been so radical." I nodded. "And then… brief moments you act as if nothing's changed. You're _sweet_," he sneered the word, not believe he said it himself, "and funny and makes me regret – and at the same time not – that I left."

"That's very honest of you," I acclaim. My right hand comes up again, softly rubbing his shoulder. "Alright. Intimate moment over. Let's say we don't speak of it for at least the remainder of this little… mission, okay?" Edward nods and I sit back.

As we reach Poland I bring out my phone to call the airline. I spoke with a German broken accent. Our tickets were booked. We had one more hour to go.

* * *

**AN: I'm leaving for Paris in the morning so I figured I'd be nice and update before I leave.  
**


	16. I have a, shall we say

"_I have a, shall we say, morbid personality"_

Russia is at its most finest when covered in a thick layer of the whitest snow. Cotton-like pricks falling slowly to the ground. Even in the pitch blackness could I see the tiny imperfect beings, each different than the last. I've always liked snow. There's something about looking out the window to a brighter world.

The plane lands with a heavy thumb of metallic screeching. We both wait as the compartment empties and then make our moves. My contacts have but five minutes left before completely dissolving. The papery screen does nothing to hinder my flawless vision but nevertheless… it feels better when I'm all me.

We hurry out the airport. Each carrying one bag. I've parted with a lot of things over the years. Many I've thrown but some I have stored. I would soon place my yellow rose necklace there as well. But there wasn't time for personal matters now.

We search the lot for an appropriate car – code for the most over the top vehicle within our line of sight. Noticing a silver Mercedes idling far away from the entrance to make it appropriate to steal, we threw out respective bags in the back before I hotwired the metallic heap and sped off much too fast.

The roads were horrible. Even for me it was hard to say where they ended and the field started. And the constant mess of rain and snow and hail was not making matters easier.

"Perhaps we should stop for a while," Edward suggested. I don't like admitting other people are right even when I'm not in a position to be wrong but he did have a point. We would travel faster by foot in weather like this but I didn't want to get my hair wet again nor did I feel like ruining my brand new clothes. I'd have to find a store and who knows where the nearest one is in the wilderness of Russia. At least we made it out the city before leading the car odd the highway and onto a small dirt road where I pulled off to the side and shut the power.

I heard the distant honks and thought it glad we'd stopped now rather than having to face yet another accident with blood. Humans drive much too carelessly.

"If it's not better in a few hours we drive either way." Edward agreed and I reclined my seat, already feeling boredom looming not far away.

Great.

oOo

Seven-hundred-and-fifty-one.

Seven-hundred-and-fifty-two.

Seven-hundred-and-fifty-three.

Seven-hundred-and-fifty-four.

"What are you doing?" I continue watching my hair, laying one strand after another to the counted pile.

"I'm bored."

"And counting how many hair strands you have is helping?"

"At the moment." I fall back with a sigh, beginning to think I was losing it. Can vampires suffer from cabin fever? That's a disturbing thought. My eyes roll, searching the car for… anything before landing on Edward. "I'm bored," I say with a raise of my eyebrows.

"What do you want me to do about it?" I shrug.

"It was your brilliant plan to stop."

"I thought it best to do it now than later when one of them drives off the road." A wide smirk etches into my face. "What?"

"You called a human one of them." He rolled his eyes at my juvenile behavior. But what does he expect? Everyone always says you're supposed to act your age. I'm eighteen years old and therefore a constant and per petulant moody, self-righteous control freak teenager. My behavior should include me slamming the door of my bedroom multiple times a day but since I don't have a bedroom not a door I'd have to do with playing games. I love games.

"What are you smiling at?" he ventured, voice cautious.

"My inner voice is too hilarious sometimes."

"Anything interesting?"

"I was thinking how you find my juvenile behavior, juvenile."

"So?"

"And then I though how in angry conversations in movies and TV shows they always say to act your age. I'm a teenager so technically you can't find my juvenile behavior irritating or juvenile since I'm mentally right where I'm supposed to be." He stares at me.

"I sometimes think you experience delirious outbursts." That only makes me chuckle. "If I didn't know any better I'd say you were high."

"I wonder if we can get high," I muse, reclining my seat further back.

"Are you feeling okay?" The question is preposterous. There is no alternative. We cannot get sick and therefore we're always okay. But I suppose there's an arterial meaning to his words. So instead of correcting him in my irritatingly juvenile way I simply nod, not making any further motion into a conversation.

"Do you think there're aliens out there?" I blurted, one arm strew across the head rest, playing with a strand of hair.

Edward had reclined his chair as well and turned his head – with scrunched eyebrows – towards me. "What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to start a conversation. Prolonged silences make me nervous. Just answer the question." He looks back up the skylight, shrugging.

"I suppose it's naïve to think that in the entire universe ours is the only planet sufficiently stocked with lively inhabitants." I nod my head slowly and absentmindedly.

"How articulate," He tries to punch my arm but I neatly dodge his attack. "We are so going to get snowed in here."

"Then we'll walk."

"I'll ruin my hair," I pouted at the disappearing sky. "Not to mention the shoes."

"That's very girly of you."

"Fuck you," I exclaim.

"Such language," he chastised. "Is that what they taught you in Sunday school?"

"Like you weren't forced to church every fucking Sunday." He nodded.

"That's true. And the clothes." I made a gagging noise.

"And they talked for hours. I get they love God but no one can talk that much about another being for that long. At least they shouldn't. It's kinda creepy."

"They really like their God."

"Let's not talk about an imaginary deity. It's putting a damper on my mood."

"You could get more bored? That's troubling."

"Oh yes. You didn't see me during the sixties. Wow that decade sucked."

"What are you talking about? The thirties sucked. Sixties were… decent at best. At least The Beatles made it durable."

"First off, not even The Beatles could save that decade. Secondly, the thirties only sucked at the beginning with the depression and all that. Such a downer. Oh and that little war thing the Germans thought they could win. They never learn."

"That little war thing? Bells, you need to work on your people skills."

"Whatever does he mean?" I used, resting my hands on my stomach, sometimes twirling my thumbs.

"You can come off as…"

"Bitchy?"

"insensitive."

"But I'm not sensitive."

"You don't have to let the whole world know that."

"So I should learn when to shut up?" I offered. Edward nodded. "Alright. But you're not without flaws either."

"I kno- what exactly are my flaws?" I laughed as he made the mistake of actually wanting me to tell him. Cocky much?

"You're self-righteous. Stubborn-"

"You're stubborn too."

"But I'm cute when I'm stubborn. And sometimes you treat me like a kid."

"Technically you are," he pointed.

"I have two hundred years on you."

"Years don't really make a difference."

"Then why treat me like I'm five?" My voice carries with a higher pitch.

"It makes you mad," he replied with a smirk.

"So?"

"You're cute when you're mad." My top lip pull back slightly as I think if I should be mad or flattered by his statement.

But the snow starts relenting. Time has gone long enough for the cars to have diminished on the highway. I raise my seat again and start the car. Somehow it had not set yet so we're on the road within minutes.

For an hour we travel further into Russian wilderness. Finally we're on another dirt road, and I know we're on the right track. But this is as far as we'll be able to take the car. There's no way to turn it around later and we can't have it stuck in the middle of the woods. I turn to Edward with a sigh.

"Looks like we're walking."

"I thought you didn't want to walk," he said while I zipped my jacket halfway up so it wouldn't get caught in the wind. My hair does though but I can't seem o find when the snow falls exactly like I remember it. Not that it was long since I saw snow. But it was a while since I was standing in this very forest watching it fall in juts this order.

"That was before when it was hailing, raining and snowing at the same time."

We set a human pace. The ground tilts with an eight percent increase for every meter. The hill takes us into the center of the forest. Only one of us would know the differences around. There were no animals around. Even if I didn't know Dmitri kept to the deepest parts I'd know another vampire had a place nearby.

"Is it far?" I stopped with a grumbled look. "What?"

"When we meet him, don't talk. He probably won't be pleased I brought someone with me so stay in the shadows."

"Fine," he grumbled back. We had to be a sight. Two people wandering in the middle of the woods, neither fully dressed for outdoors and me in five inch full heeled boots.

A small path appeared in-between a group of trees. I peered into the darkness and spotted the cabin. It's an older model. Though having been renovated over the years, the house still showed signs of aging. Old hunting cabin with a stone fireplace that hasn't been lit for centuries.

"Invisible," I mumbled before setting a faster pace. He must have heard us by now. I detected movement inside but no words yet.

As I stepped on the creaking porch and braced myself to knock, the door flew open revealing Dmitri.

His face remained impassive for three seconds before a full blow grin stretched onto his face.

"Isabella. What a marvelous surprise." His gaze finally lands on Edward. He gives him a once over before returning my eye contact.

Dmitri stands at just below six feet tall with a moderate weight. He stands out no different than the rest of us. Of course his eyes are the same as mine though much more vibrant now. It's been over a week since I fed. His hair light brow. Slightly longer than what's in fashion. His clothes are out of date though impeccably clean and without tears. His skin is whiter than either Edward's and mine. Almost translucent. He stays most days here, reading. He prefers books over the internet. Can't say I blame him.

"May we come inside?" Dmitri nodded.

"Yes. Of course." We come inside to a room filled with nothing but flaming candles. "What brings you to my safe haven, little one?" He picked up a book from an old carved wooden desk. The interior was quite different. Modern-ish. Desk, couch, Persian rugs, expensive paintings – some of which I recognize from their previous homes.

And books. Hundreds – possibly thousand books filling every nook and cranny of each bookcases and various other shelves and drawers. Old leather bound with crinkled brown papers. Others with leather sheets instead of paper. And some new. I noticed several books on various religions in a far corner.

"The necklace is gone," I say bluntly. My gaze travel over the dusty fire mantle. Antique picture frames demand the spot. Each from a different ear. But non with him. The tick tock of an old silver pocket watch steals my attention. I pick up the piece, pressing the top to get the latch undone.

Suddenly Dmitri is in front of me. He gently takes the watch with a disapproving look. "We mustn't touch what isn't ours, Isabella." He put the clock back and strode towards his desk. "This is very troubling news." His voice is low and grave. "I told you to keep it safe."

"I thought I did."

"Did you keep it on your person?"

"I put it in a jewelry box and threw it into the lake at Versailles." He sighs, leaning against the desk.

"Someone must have seen you."

"Does it matter? It's gone and we need to get it back."

"What's the deal with the stupid necklace?" Both Dmitri and I flash our faces towards Edward. I roll my eyes and mutter unintelligent words.

"Who are you?" Dmitri asked, turning towards me for confirmation.

"Edward." Dmitri quirks a brow. "Cullen." Now both brows rise in recognition.

"Any relation to Carlisle Cullen?"

"Do you know him?" Dmitri nods, folding his hands together in a very old fashion.

"Yes. We met while I was staying in Volterra with the Volturi." Edward face turns to mine. I shrug, possibly feeling bad for not mentioning that small detail.

"Forgot to mention that," he muttered.

"I do not share every Volturi vision, I can assure you." Dmitri looks back to me.

"Does he not know?"

"Not yet."

"Can someone just say it?" I sigh, deciding to blurt it out.

"A witch gave it to me."

Edward seems confused but then his lips draws back in a chuckle.

"You can't be serious."

"Well she didn't exactly give it. I took it. Though she was dead so it's fair game then." He looks at me for a long time.

"That's ridiculous."

"About as ridiculous as three vampires standing in the middle of the woods in Russia having this conversation," Dmitri spoke up. I inclined a hand towards him.

"Yes. Exactly."

"But there are no witches. We would know."

"Would you? Would you really?" He looks away, probably questioning his sanity. I looked back to Dmitri. His lips were pursed in deep thought.

"Do you think they…" Dmitri shakes his head, still pensive.

"No. No I don't believe they have it. But since it's not in your possession anymore we'll have to make a lot of assumptions." I look down, feeling my lips tremble with rage. "You'll have to find a descendant. They'll have an emotional connection."

"It's not like they're listed in the yellow pages," I say with deep sarcasm. Dmitri laughs short.

"No. Find Ben."

"And who's Ben?" Edward asks.

"A sponge. He's only been around since the eighteen-twenties but he knows his stuff. And he would know how to catch a witch's scent. So to speak."

"You keep in touch?" Dmitri shrugs. Edward's eyes flash to mine, just now realizing I've left more out than he thought. I've told him he can't trust me. Why does that make me more trustworthy?

"Now and then we communicate, yes."

"Where can I find him?"

"So impatient," Dmitri muttered with a roll of his eyes. "You'll take any reason to leave as soon as possible."

"I'll come back soon enough. We'll reminisce when this has been dealt with." Dmitri likes our talks. He craves them. He doesn't like anyone really but if he did, he would like me. He'd probably adopt me if he could. Or take me as a lover. Sometimes it's hard to know with Dmitri.

"Excellent. And I shall have to hear _everything_." He turned with a wicked grin and started flipping through a thick book of old and brittle pages. I felt Edward at my side but made no move to acknowledge him. I could feel his irritation vibrate onto me. It was hard not to smirk.

"Ah! Here." Dmitri handed me a newly written piece of paper. A single address adorned the paper.

"Narrow lane 67, Conway, Mississippi. Never heard of it."

"Not surprising. It's a very small town. It's his last known location. I don't know if he's still there but you'll know it's him when you see it."

"See what?"

"His give-away." Dmitri holds up a crime scene photograph. The image was disturbing beyond means. Two women posing on the couch. Wide eyed, stiff. Clean cut marks on their necks, legs and arms suggest they've been separated and then put back together. There was little to no blood along the incisions'.

"Remorse," I whisper, remembering the craft. It had shocked Louisiana in the thirties. No one could explain the bodies nor was a culprit found.

"Maybe he shouldn't eat humans," Edward mused. Dmitri looked up with apprehension.

"Yes," he said slowly. "I've heard of Carlisle's _unusual_ diet. Though I thought it was a mere rumor."

"It's not." A sly smile lit Dmitri's face as he pondered the possibilities, no doubt.

"Fascinating," he whispered.

oOo

Little over three hours later we were on a plane towards Zürich where we would change to New York before boarding yet another one to Mississippi. But before, I had to do one more thing. This time it was not negotiable whether Edward was coming along or not. This mine and when I want to share, I will. But not today.

That brought up thoughts of the necklace and when I had seen it last. I hadn't dared remove it from it submerged grave for fear someone would witness me. But I tried to tell myself I hadn't seen the box been moved until today. I thought back and the placement seemed sufficiently similar to that of the eighteenth century.

"He trusts you." We hadn't spoken to each other since leaving the cabin. My mind had been filled with too many questions to bother with pleasantries and Edward had apparently been following my lead. But in the darkness of the plane and almost every human snoring into oblivion, he must have found the silence too tedious.

"Is that so?" Leaning back, I finally relented on folder of crime scene photographs Dmitri was kind enough to give me.

"And he likes you."

I breathed a chuckle. "Are you jealous?"

He didn't even blink. "No. But it makes me nervous." I had gone back to the pictures, paying him little attention.

"Why?"

"He's… a little mentally unstable." I tried to keep the laughter in but it was hard. "His mind is irrational."

"We're all irrational," I minded him, putting down the pictures for good.

"Yes but he makes it deliriously obvious." The back of my head hit the headrest as I looked at him.

"It's cabin fever. He'll get better when he's been around people."

"He doesn't like people."

I sighed. "Yeah well neither do I but look where I am." I gestured towards the rest of the first class compartment. My hand fell to the armrest with a thud as my head tilted, displaying exhaustion even though I felt nothing but exhilaration.

"You're not too bad," he said, looking out the window.

"Not too bad? Well I guess that's step up from being the devil." He chuckle but doesn't turn his head.

We descent into Zürich. We're off the plane before any other passenger. When I make my way towards the exit Edward makes his first play to hinder my movements.

"Where are you going?" I yank my arm out of his grasp and keep on walking.

"You may wait for me here. I won't be more than two hours." He stands in front of me. I tilt my head, narrowing my eyes."I realize this is a very public are but that won't stop me from making a scene." Edward's eyes soften and he takes a step back.

"You don't have to threaten to get what you want, you know." I feel my face contort into a grimace.

"My existence says otherwise. Two hours." I keep on walking, watching his reflection in the sliding doors to know for sure if he's staying put. Hearing a sigh he sits down. I feel myself relaxing as I step into the cold air, not bothering with a cab. I needed a fast car.

Once I'm in the bank and my number is called I present a card. The woman at the register takes it with a puzzled look. Turning it over, however, she is hit with recognition her eyes flash to mine. I look more than innocent. She is undoubtedly valuing my age since this pass is usually given to those with right connections and a long heritage. And of course those with a lot of money. Technically I'm all three.

I'm immediately ushered into an office. The door closes behind me and I'm facing a man who looks to be around the age of sixty. His hair is grey with silver streaks, his suit is expensive. He wears a white gold Rolex and black rimmed glasses though I'm not too sure he needs them. His face is impassive as he waves a hand to the unoccupied chair in front of his impressive old English desk.

I take my seat, knowing not to speak unless spoken to.

"Here you are," he says in a deep German accent. I still say nothing. It's better if he makes up his own mind than to have it confirmed by me. "I don't know how… but you look exactly the same as fourteen years ago." That's not too long, is it?

"Do you remember the proceedings?" He's startled by my voice. His blood starts pumping faster. But he's brave enough to dare and meet my eyes.

"I do." The man turns his chair and brigs over an envelope with a plastic padding inside. He sets it to the side and lays a simple white paper box next to it. "Is the size alright?" I give one nod and watch him retreat to give me privacy.

I fish the brittle necklace from my pocket and lay it gently inside the box. I tape the sides and put down a date in black ink on the top. Making sure the envelope is properly sealed I place it back on the man's desk before exiting his office. He's standing right outside, watching the door for my reappearance.

"You are much braver than most," I say quietly, overly aware I'm being watched. As I usually am. The man stares at me. "There is no use wondering or asking yourself or others, questions. Do you understand what I am saying?" He takes a break before nodding. I give a small smile. "Make sure it gets there safe," I whisper, walking out without a second glance back.

The envelope would be catalogued as a procession of the Bank of Zürich but would never stay here for more than twenty-four hours. It would be privately delivered to Banca Monte dei Paschi di Siena in Siena, Italy where along with countless other memorabilia and priceless artifacts of mine have lain for a time span of approximately two-hundred years.

It is the one building that I dire to see the most but won't ever let myself enter. Whenever I need an item I come here to Zürich. They send the request and I will have what I want. This gives me the fullest control. And it's the only secret I will always keep to myself.

I wish I could afford the luxuries of trust and forgiveness but since I was damned into an eternity of lonesome and vengeance I can't trust anyone but myself. And for the time being there is an old man who is currently sitting behind his desk, wondering if he might have just met the devil herself.

**AN: So moody. I really hope she'll trust someone soon. **


	17. We're not in Wonderland anymore, Alice

"_We're not in Wonderland anymore, Alice" _

The house came into view a few miles down the road. There was nothing but trees around, capturing the house in an oasis. Simple white two-story square typical southern house. Porch along the front, a mimicking balcony on the second floor. Large windows.

The car turned off and we got out, standing idly by the vehicle.

"It's quiet," Edward noted. I nodded.

"Too quiet." There wasn't a bird in sight. I couldn't even hear any crickets or frogs.

Walking up to it, I saw an empty dog's water bowl and a few toys lying at the base of the steps. But there wasn't a dog here.

Coming across the porch, the scent of decay washed towards us. The door creaked open and closed on its own as we ventured inside. Dining room to the right, den to the left. Big ass impressive stairs right in front of us. I touched the round table in the center, gathering at least a month's worth of dust on two fingers.

"Why haven't anyone noticed anything?" Edward muttered from my side, taking in the abandoned house.

"People like to mind their own business." I started to the left, walking through the den, coming to a kitchen. Edward took the path under the stairs, coming to the conservator after the kitchen. I met up with him, finally seeing the first traces of a struggle. On the floor lay three distinctive stains. The scent was long gone. The blood had caked a while ago. Jerking my head, Edward followed my gaze.

I went before him; I come around the corner and witness a sight I haven't seen for over a century. On a quarter of a circle flower-patterned couch, sat a thirty-something woman, staring straight ahead with empty misty eyes.

Edward came in after me and saw the sight. I know he's struggling not to find it disgusting. To be honest I don't quite enjoy it myself.

"Are you sure it's him?" I nodded.

"Yep. I've seen this before." I nudge the woman's leg and her head pops off, falling onto the floor. Edward frowned in disgust. "He feels remorse. That's why he arranged her this way." I pause, cocking my head to the side, noticing her fingernails. "To make it look like he'd just found her."

"What?" Taking one hand, I hold it up, letting him see the broken off nails.

"She struggled." The hand dropped. Cuts appeared on the body, shallow but effective. "He kept her alive. Not for long. Maybe a week."

"How?" His voice was incredulous. To him a drop of human blood must seem impossible to resist.

"Perseverance." I looked for indications my little friend had made a mistake. We usually do. "He has amazing self control."

"Better than you?"

"Much," I reply with a chuckle. Understatement of the century. "But don't let that fool you. Just because he can resist the urge doesn't mean he's any less of a basket case."

"Basket case?"

"He has… issues. If you would. Not to mention an _unusual_ reputation." Edward gave me a look. "He's called the ripper."

"As in Jack?"

"Sure. But Jack was a surgeon. Ben here is just remorseful. And nuts."

"They don't know if he was a surgeon."

"Of course not. But I do." I smirked, coming to the kitchen to look for something flammable.

"You knew Jack the Ripper?" He followed me into the kitchen, paying no attention to what I was doing.

"I've known many famous people, Edward. After a century I grew bored with pretenses and so I had non for a few years. And one day I will tell you all my stories." I found a gallon of oil in the cupboard.

"You stayed in one place for years? I have a hard time believing that." I started pouring oil over the woman and the loveseat.

"There's a lot you don't know about me. And yes. I managed to stay put for a few years. It helped when there was people around I could actually tolerate."

"Who?" I found a lighter. The couch and body caught fire. Just then, a piece of fabric left hanging over the desk chair caught my eyes. Blue plaid shirt. Man size. I grabbed the garment, turning it over in my hands. Dried blood on the front. But other than that it was clean. Too clean. I threw it into the flames.

"We need to get out."

The sun was gone by the time we arrived on the front lawn to hear the first set of windows blow out from heat. The clouds were grey and heavy. I wasn't waiting around for rain.

"What was that?"

"Dead end. He wouldn't hit this town again. We'll have to start over"

"How do we know he's even in the country?"

"He likes the south. There's enough distance between houses he can do whatever it is he wants without interruptions."

We get back in the car just as the sky opens. The grounds are turned into mush within minutes. We travel in silence for a couple of moments before Edward breaks it.

"Just out of curiosity… Who have you known?" I smirk, familiar faces flashing by eyes.

When I didn't answer Edward gaze found mine. He quirked a brow. "Won't you tell me?" I returned his stare before sighing.

"What is it you want to know? Be straight with me." He shrugged.

"I'm simply asking a question."

"But why do you care? You hate me, remember?"

"I don't hate you."

The rain grew worse and thunder vibrated the car. We were on our way to the closest bar. One thing I knew, vampires always hang out in bars. Easy prey and not many pays too much attention.

"I knew the queen," I said softly, breaking out second patch of silence.

"Of England?" Edward asked, seeming confused.

"Of France." There is a pause.

"Marie-Antoinette?"

"The very one."

"How does one meet the queen?" he mumbled. I knew he meant it rhetorically but after a few minutes, I answered.

"She liked my hair." I faced him. His gaze flicked from the road to me. "There was a masquerade ball at the opera house. I went, I left. Next day I got an invitation to the chateau. I stayed around for a while before the revolution broke out. I couldn't fully leave until after their deaths. The country was much more cooperative then." I sighed and looked out the window, watching the road signs pass at an alarming rate.

"You didn't leave Paris until 93?" My eyes widened a small fracture. A mistake. "Why would you stay for so long?"

"It was impossible leave. Guards and angry mobs everywhere. I would have been exposed." He laughed.

"A discreet vampire like yourself? I don't think so. Unless… no." My eyes narrowed, tuning back to him.

"What?"

"That couldn't be. Did you… did you feel _bad_ for them?" I snorted.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course you do. And that's why you stayed. You actually felt remorse." His expression was genuine but I refused to admit to having human emotions. It wasn't me and it never would be.

"That's quite an accusation," I noted, sliding into bitch mode.

"Did you leave before they were executed or just after? Did you watch? Maybe you just wanted to see their heads roll off-" My hand flashed to his neck, squeezing. The car screeched to a halt. Edward gasped for air he didn't need as I let him go, sliding back into my seat, licking my lips, trying to calm down. "Hit a nerve did I?"

"Drive."

"Not just yet." Turning my head, I let an expression of upmost irritation and anger cloud my face.

"Drive," I said through clenched teeth.

"Did you actually like the company of humans? I thought you said they were food and entertainment."

"They are."

"But they can be more?" My teeth clenched harder.

"I will rip your head off." He sucked in a breath, shaking his head.

"No, you won't." Like a stubborn child, I looked out the window, one second away from pouting. Next second Edward lips were at my ear, whispering softly. "It's okay to feel things. Be a bitch all you want but you don't have to lie to me." He leaned back, turning on the car again and started driving.

My mind was reeling. Memories I'd rather forget kept popping back like a movie.

The leaves had all but disappeared. The wind was calm, though; showing no indication autumn was upon us. The square was buzzing. In the distance, too early for the humans to sense, I heard a carriage. The hooves of a horse against the cobblestone. The wood of damaged wheels screeched. And two heart beats. One slightly upbeat while the other's in complete rhythm. Calm. Defeated.

I watched as the crowd started screaming, jumping up and down to watch the carriage circle the square before making its final stop. Swallowing down venom I watch the figure at the back get up without a sound and gently lower itself onto the ground. With her head high, the queen took the five steps up onto the platform. She bumped into the executioner, apologizing for stepping on his foot.

I wanted to leave. I shouldn't have come. I should have left a long time ago. Years. But my feet were planted on the ground, unable to move as the bench was lifted and the body strapped.

Two men gently lowered the bench horizontally and pushing it forwards. With a final click, the wood was secured and the neck piece was placed. For ten seconds, everything was quiet. No one spoke. No last plea for survival. The queen looked up, her gaze searching our faces. I heard a sigh before she looked down into the basket of water with a solemn expression.

The blade dropped.

"Bella?" I shook my head, not wanting to talk about it. I couldn't even remember without the strangest feeling in my throat. It wasn't the first time I had blended in amongst people. But somehow, I felt too comfortable. I actually… liked them. My complexion was spot on. My posture wasn't odd. I fit. "What is it?"

"Stop it!" I hissed, my eyes flashing open, staring at the ceiling. "Just, stop." I faced him. "You're not my therapist. Talking about it will not help. Thinking about it, will most certainly not. So just, stop." I sat back, elbow resting against the window while my fingers covered my mouth, appearing to be thinking but I was just trying not to freak out.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. I refused to take his apology. Right now I hate what I am. To never forget is… not what it's hyped to be. It's not cool. It's not practical. It's a burden… harder than the thirst. But even if I could forget, I doubt the image of her head flying into a tub of water would ever leave my memory.

Reaching a hand over, Edward tried to touch my arm but I slapped his hand away, holding up my hand. He knew better than to push me.

Twenty minutes passed without either of us trying to make conversation. Surprising myself, I was the one to break it, saying things I probably shouldn't.

"I may be a lot of things, but nostalgic cannot be one of them." Edward watched me. "I can't afford to let my guard down and caring for humans? That's a big no no in the vampire handbook."

I sigh heavily, feeling myself telling a story I wasn't ready to share. "I never felt like a freak. They were just as pale. Just as stiff. I didn't have to pretend." I licked my lips. "I don't like this century. People dress like prostitutes." He smirked. "And they can't spell. They use numbers instead of words and completely butcher the English language. Don't… don't they know what people have sacrificed? Do they think it's all been done just to give them a blow-up version of a cell phone?"

Edward stopped the car again and turned off the ignition. I leaped out of the car, feeling the walls close in on me. I stopped across the road.

"Does it get old? A new town, a new state? Always play the outcasts because you can't afford the "luxury of friends"?" I didn't have to be psychic to know what he was going to say. And my anger flared.

"Don't you dare say I'm the same! Don't you dare say I don't have friends. I had friends!" Edward stopped a few feet away. "I had people who cared about me!" I shook my head unintentionally, tongue against my lips as if that would make my soon-to-be tantrum go away. "What's the point?" my voice whispered. The rain pelted down on us. We were both soaked. My hair a mess. "What's the point of pretending to be one of them when it always has to end?" My chest heaved. I felt sobs in my throat.

"Just say it. You'll feel so much better; I promise. What's this about?"

"Him!" I yelled; the sound carried through the woods like a knife. Now the sobs broke free. "Why would he do this to me?! How could he sentence me to an eternity of sorrow!?" Edward was right in front me. I held up my hands, wanting him to back off but he grabbed them roughly, pulling me close. And I let him. For a moment I was completely still, not sure how to respond when my arms lifted and wrapped around his neck, crushing him to me. My whole frame shook and I shoved my face into his shoulder.

"What did I do to deserve this?" I whispered; my voice heavy.

"Nothing," he answered in the same low voice. His hand went under my jacket, fingers tracing my spine up and down. "He shouldn't have taken that choice away from you." My shoulders trembled, my mouth clamped shut.

I don't know how long we stood there. Felt like hours but probably only lasted a few seconds. My arms fell from him and I pushed away, composing my face.

"Feels good getting out, doesn't it?" I nodded solemnly.

We were back in the car then, speeding off. The rain worsened. Lightening struck over a field to our left. I pushed the sunshield down and checked myself in the mirror. The sight was excruciating. I was still as beautiful as ever but I also looked like a drowned rat. I pushed the shield back up.

"We'll have to stop for the night."

"Why?"

"I won't be seen like this," I motion down my frame with a hand, "There's still a reputation to uphold."

"You look fine."

"I look like a drowned rat." He chuckled. "Besides, it's not like we're in a hurry."

oOo

Since we're in the middle of fuck knows where, the Hilton wasn't exactly on the menu, so to speak. I'm used to any type of living arrangement but I didn't want the Bates motel. I'm still frowning as the door closes behind me. The old school analog clock on the wall with roman numerals says it's ten to ten. Probably why they were so bitchy at the reception.

"I think I'm entitled to some answers now." I sigh.

"May I shower first? I would have though you would be the first to suggest. Since it's so human and all." Edward rolls his eyes at me. I smirk. "Maybe you'd like to share?" Now he sighed.

"Get in Bella."

And I do. The warm water cascades down my frame, soaking my hair all over again. I raise my face, letting the droplets fall around the contours. It feels good. And unquestionably normal.

I dress in the most casual I can think of. Jeans that cling to my legs with inconspicuous rips up and down the thighs and knees. A thin grey v-neck t-shirt that's about half a size too big but the color contrast surprisingly well with my complexion.

I feel naked without my necklace, though. But I can't trust it to be safe with me right now. My mood ring, however, provides a relaxing illusion. I towel my hair until it's completely dry in its normal straight-with-minimal-waves. I let it be just out of boredom.

I hear voices in the other room. I try to tune it out but when it's almost screaming at you, you kind of want to eavesdrop. They're asking when he's coming back. Probably think I'm trying to convert him. I pay special attention to Edward's words. Any give-away to my little meltdown earlier in the day and I'll have him thrown from the room. Literally.

The phone dies and I'm leaning against the wall next to the bathroom door.

"It would be better if you went home." I don't see his face since he's sitting on the bed with his back towards me but even so I can feel his eyes roll.

"It would, wouldn't it?" He turned, looking me over. "You look normal." I shrug. "Answers?"

"About?"

"The house?" I purse my lips, waiting for something more specific that I can give a short and cut answer to. "How did you know about the position of the body?"

"I told you; I've seen it before."

"When?" I shake my head.

"You're not asking the right question." He rolled his eyes.

"You sound like a Dr. Seuss book." But perhaps finding this enticing and however remotely fun, Edward started thinking before answering.

"When, specifically, did you meet this Ben guy?" That's a good question.

"Eighteen-eighty-nine."

"Where did you meet?"

"Manhattan."

"New York society?"

"Precisely." A glimpse of the glitz and glamour of the not-so pre-gossip girl area flash before my eyes.

"I thought you said he liked the south." Wasn't a question, but a decent statement at least. I nod.

"Even bears come out of hibernation once in a blue moon." I hate myself for using that expression.

"How did you meet?" I lick my lips, trying to decide how to best phrase the unexpected rendezvous. There isn't.

"I caught him in the act." For a moment his mind flashes to an entirely different picture before focusing on a man with no recognizable face devouring a serving girl or maybe a maid.

"And what happened?" It was more a question to ask a question. He didn't need to be so reproachful. Then again, he shouldn't let his guard down.

"I was appalled, actually. They were in the coat closet, fifty feet from the ball itself. That is unacceptable. He could have been spotted and ruined the fun for everyone." I take a breath and sit down on the bed, crossing my legs. "I helped him dispose of the body. He was in awe. He hadn't met another… _equal,_ other than his "master". His word, not mine." I don't like the term vampire being thrown out there casually. It's not meant to be view as interesting or part of a normal conversation.

"He knows the rules but he's still very green. I gave him a few… guidelines, if you would. He took to me more than I would have liked but shit happens. He tells me he feels bad for his work. And this was before I time I knew there was an alternative. If I knew I probably would have suggested it to him. But instead I told him to shut it off. They're nothing but food. Though he shouldn't take just anyone. Stalk out bars. Get the runaways, prostitutes. People that won't be missed in this sad and statistic world."

"And you told him to put them back together?" he said with disgust in his voice.

"No Mr. Moral. After a few weeks Ben went back to the south where he's most comfortable. I caught up with him after a few… disturbing news paper articles. I had made it very specific that he does not get caught. The- _they_ would come and he'd talk because he's an idiot and then I'd have them after me twice. Except this time they'd know who I was. Though now I'm guessing they already did. Not the point. I find his little… display and confront him about it. He then reveals he doesn't _need_ to kill them. He opens a small wound – barely tearing the skin – while sucking out the blood, never letting his tongue near it. In that scenario, his victims live and he can move on. But he didn't count on their fear when they woke up. They exerted the wound and he would go crazy. He feels bad and tried to put them together like he would if one of us were dismembered."

Edward's carefully listening to my every word. Probably cataloguing it all into a folder in the back of his mind. To be exhumed later.

"I get him to lay low for a few months and it all blows over. I tell him to pick more secluded places. Be more careful but I promise myself to keep track of him. Make sure he doesn't do anything rash. He doesn't." I lean back against the pillar of the tacky four-poster bed, letting one leg stay tucked halfway under me while the other bent at the knee, stretching out along the spread.

"When was that?"

"Nineteen-oh-two."

"Is that the last you saw of him?"

"Yes."

"Is it the last you've heard from him?"

"No." He takes a breath.

"Is he dangerous?" I snort.

"We're all dangerous. But yes. He is. And he'll probably have to die." He doesn't know this man and yet Edward's looking bothered by my casual murder plotting tone.

"Why?"

"He can very easily expose us."

"But then he'll expose himself as we-"

"Not to humans, Edward," I say pointedly. He stays quiet, considering my words. I know he wants to ask but he has more pressing questions to deal with.

"Dmitri." I chuckle. One word asks a thousand questions. "When?"

"Seventeen-oh-three."

"Where?"

"Sixty miles north of St. Petersburg."

"Why?"

"He taught me... _everything_. How to move around. What places to uphold. Where to stay. To become invisible. I owe him." Edward considers this for a little while.

"Why does he scare you?" I release a small breath of air, finding the question difficult.

"I can't afford to trust people. Especially not when they've just a few years ago shared a castle with the Volturi." I know the question hits home but he needs to hear this. "I don't trust them. You do know their little rise to dictation is all an act, right?" He nods. "They only want control. Power. I'm surprised you haven't been formally invited to come and join the party." His eyes cast down.

"They have. Multiple times. Alice too. Even Jasper. But we've only met once. In passing. A meeting I won't be making again." He's talking in a fast enough tone that I knew he was trying to convince me more than himself.

"And you said no?"

"I don't trust them either. But the rest of us are heavily outnumbered. I'm not going to do something to upset my family." Why did that sting? But then his face turned a different emotion. He fought and internal battle before he's devil side won. "Have you two ever… Did you slept with him?"

"Are you asking for my list?" He sighs before shaking his head. "I flirt with everyone. That doesn't mean I fuck them all." I purse my lips, narrowing my eyes. Edward looks put off. "Why do you ask that?" He's at a loss for words for several seconds.

"It's just a question."

"No. What I've done during the day is a question. That was basic interrogation. I hope you're not that old fashioned that you're put off I had a life before I met you. I know you're not so don't try to lie to me."

"I'm not I just… I… I mind. Okay?" I brows rise high.

"You mind?" A nod. "You mind who I do or don't sleep with?" Another nod. "And why do you think that is?" He sighs.

"Let's move on?" I chuckle but let him ask his question but quickly turn wary as they become more and more personal.

"How do you have such good control?" It's a somewhat secret passage I've managed to crack and I like that it others find it envious.

"I've been well trained."

"By Thomas?" I breathe in the same way I do every time his name is mentioned. Hatred fills my veins but it's futile to feel this way now.

"No. He taught me nothing. Stay out of the sunlight was pretty basic. I was a doll. Being dressing in pretty clothes for his amusement. Paraded around on his arm like an accessory."

"Why didn't you leave sooner?" I lick my bottom lip, overly aware how open I was being but one more question wouldn't hurt.

"I- He- He told me things."

"What?"

"This about… other places. He talked about the world like it was right there; waiting to be explored. I didn't want to stay in that town. Not sure what I remember is real or something my mind's made up but I think I hated it there. Especially- I didn't see his true self until almost a decade after he turned me." I feel the denim of my jeans, feeling depressed all of a sudden.

"And he just let you go?" A frown appeared as I let out a sinister chuckle while shaking my head.

"No, he didn't just let me go. I ran. Literally. Until I hit Spain." Such a weird sentence. "I stayed the night. There was a war. People didn't give it a second thought. But he found me. I escaped. Barely." I remember his hand around my throat; feeling it tearing my diamond skin. Such an unnatural feeling. I touch the would-be mark had I not been able to distract him. "He's found me twice since then." I sigh. "I don't want to talk about him."

Edward nods and sit beside me, shoulder bumping into mine.

"You know you can trust me right?"

"I know."

"But you don't?" I sigh.

"No."

"It's okay," he breathes. "Can I ask something else?"

"One more. Think it through." He already had, apparently.

"If I had asked you to come with me… would you?" I think back to the days before he decided to leave me. He'd been off. Not really looking me in the eyes. I had known what was coming but couldn't face it until he got the courage to say something.

"I don't know," I answer honestly. "I'm not sure I can stop. Even with my control." I see him open his mouth, probably to praise my already excellent control but it would be to no use and only upset me further. So he stays quiet.


	18. I'm not afraid of death

"_I am not afraid of death; I just don't want to be there when it happens"_

There isn't a chance of the sun shining its rays of death down on us today. The air is too misty for humans too peer through it. They squint their eyes every five seconds, trying not to cross the street and get hit by a car.

I've teased my hair in vain. But at least I'm wearing a dramatic enough costume that will undoubtedly have Ben spot me before I do him. A simple tank top that exposes my shoulder blades with a loose long sleeved number thrown over. The fabric clings to my hips and arms. I push the cotton to my elbows, only displaying my mood ring today.

At least I don't click from overly high heels they can't even walk in.

We find a bar fast. It's the south, after all. The soft music playing inside as people nurse their hangovers before gearing up to welcome another one. I scan the room, looking at each of their faces before deeming the bar as failure.

We hit two other "hot spots" only to be disappointed. I have to resist the urge not to flash Ben's picture at every human I see.

But then suddenly Edward grasps my arm, making me halt on the sidewalk. I turn towards him.

"Yes?" I was getting too excited but how could I not?

"I'm not sure."

"Where?" He jerks his head up the street. Our forth try. Not too shabby.

I make him stay outside as I walk in, accessing the mood. I don't see Ben in the room but listening closer I hear the sloshing sound of blood coming from the back. I'm not even being subtle with my next move.

I quickly step towards the back – still humanly slowly – and yanks open the doors until I find Ben. He drops the body but there's still blood inside. Perhaps it won't matter. His eyes widen as he sees me. I cock my head.

"What did I tell you about not getting caught?!" I don't yell but I might as well have. Ben winces but still holds his ground.

"I wasn't caught."

"You might as well have been." In an ultra alternative universe, I would probably specify Ben's and my relations as mother scolding her son. Trust me, its way weirder form my end than it is form yours. "You don't leave a body behind. And in that position! What the fuck?!" I hiss, watching shame enter his eyes. It's almost pathetic how much he follows my lead.

"Sorry," he mumbles.

"I've covered for you for the last time. Got it?" He nods and dumps the waters body in the dumpster at the back of the bar. "I need you to find me someone." His interest peaks. So willing to please.

"Who?"

"I don't have a name but… I need information on a witch line dating back to the seventeen hundreds." His eyes widen.

"That's a long line." I nod.

"Realized. Can you find it for me?" He purses his lips before freezing.

"Who's here with you?" I sigh, as if bored.

"An old friend. Nothing for you to be concerned with. Find me a line." I scribbled down my number on his arm, give him a quick kiss on the cheek and then walk back to Edward. He quirks a brow. "What?" I snap. He shakes his head with an amused smirk hidden beneath the layers of expression control.

We wander around town for hours, never stopping and never speaking. It's not until we come to the outskirts where a thick forest grows. It's not like the forests I'm used to. It's too dry, even with the fog.

But Edward wanders inside and since I'm not about to stand outside looking like a fool I follow him.

We come across fallen logs and huge boulders. The forest animals come alive and scurry off as out silent feet pads us closer towards them. But there's nothing bigger than a fox. No challenge. I would suppose they want it sometimes. In theory they can suffice on anything but would they only want bunnies?

"What are you thinking?" Having my thoughts interrupted is entirely new to me. Normally I'll conjure up fifty different types of layouts at the same time. My mind is always grumbling for something new to occupy my time with.

"I'm thinking about how you hunt." I feel Edward stiffen beside me but it's not from me thinking about him hunting so much as how he hunts. He's concentrating on ever one of my words.

"Yes?"

"Well not just you, exactly. I was thinking that you wouldn't be comfortable here, right? There's nothing bigger than foxes." Edward nods, considering this.

"I've always wondered why, in movies, they have us live in such warm climates. Not that the heat would do anything but there's so much sun. If we're supposed to burn, why not make us live in the north?" I chuckle.

"It's religion." Edward quirks a brow. A twig snaps under his shoe. We're not trying to be careful or I'd teased him for making such noise. "There're usually more Catholics in warmer weathers. They're the ones with the biggest issues." I chuckle louder as an image comes to mind.

"Do share," he prompted.

"I was staying in Rome a little while back and a stroll took me to St. Peters Basilica. They walk around like they're Gods. It almost made me want to tell them all."

"That's morbid." I look into his eyes.

"It's the whole point of being a vampire. We weren't made to be admired. Though humans have a thin line of what's appropriate."

"What do you mean?"

"Every time you come to a new place, change schools, you can't say they don't notice you. The way you dress. They way you speak. We're beautiful to them because they're too blinded by physical attributes."

"Society never really changes," he mused.

"If people only focused on trivial matter instead of what they're going to wear during the day, perhaps people would be better off."

"Possibly," he agreed. "What are we doing?" I breathe in deep, crossing another fallen log. The terrain was getting more and more unpredictable.

"You need to feed." Edward looks confused. "It's been two weeks easily."

"How can you tell?"

"Your eyes are black." He frowned.

"Yours are not that bright either, I might add."

"I know." He looks unsure before catching my drift.

"Really?" I shrug.

"I'll try it one time. One." He almost looks… happy? Is that all it takes? The promise the unlucky victim will live to see another morning?

We track the larger predators deeper into the woods. This was very much out of my element. I hear the beats of course but they were so different from humans, and still excruciatingly similar. At the notice of a buck merely half a mile away, venom was pooling in my mouth. I felt my eyes shift darker in hunger.

I could easily go another couple of days without feeding but to understand their lifestyle I ought to give it a go. The idea is preposterous. But it's what I've been told, what I've been taught. If needing to survive one would seek out the presence of animals. When traveling on a ship, crew members couldn't go missing. But as a lifestyle; it wasn't even thought of.

"What now?" I asked stupidly. But really, I did not know. Edward, however, decided not to mock or tease me today.

"Catch the scent," he instructed. I searched out the animal, finding it prancing near a brook, the hooves splashing water. Venom pooled faster, making it almost impossible to swallow it all away. Edward came up behind me, standing over my left shoulder. "Catch the prey." I hesitated for a split second before he broke off into a sprint, searching another buck a quarter of a mile to our right.

My feet began to move – mostly without my consent.

The buck caught my movements and started to run. The predator within me relished in the chase. I ran faster, my breath becoming calmer by the millisecond. The buck swooshed right, then left, trying to throw me off with a zigzag motion. But of course I could turn much faster than it.

I saw it now; barely five meters in front of me. He started faster but it was too late. My arms enclose around the ribs and my teeth locked on the jugular. The humanly heavy animal thrashed for a few moments before slumping in my arms, its heart giving out.

I stood from my crouch, overly aware how messy I'd been. My mouth was coated as were my hands since they had been digging into the soft fur. I licked my lips, getting every crimson drop. The dry ache in my throat diminished but was still there. I hear yet another animal up ahead. It felt my presence and started to sprint.

I didn't even think about it as I chased, feeling the warmth flood my throat before leaving a soothing touch in its wake. The second carcass dropped. I felt a presence behind me and whirled. Edward stood leaning against a tree, watching my every move.

"So?" I hum in thought.

"I'm full… but I want more. How odd."

"Yeah that never really goes away." I tilt my head.

"Even with gluttony?" Shaking his head, Edward stepped forward and drew his thumb across the tip of my nose. A tiny prick colored his alabaster skin.

"It's not too bad," I admit. "They run faster than humans." He says nothing, probably waiting for me to say what he already knew. "It's not as good." But that wasn't it. Still staring at me, I narrowed my eyes, finding his muteness rude and annoying.

"What?" Instead of speaking he takes out a phone from his back pocket and flipped the street at my face.

It wasn't much. A human wouldn't notice it. But we did. And there was a definite change in my eyes. Involuntarily cocking my head, I saw then glow bright red with a tint of orange, framing the pupils.

"It happens that fast?" I breathed.

"The human blood is leaving your system. It takes three, sometimes four tries." He would know. I stare at my reflection for a little while longer before an interrupting theme song bangs from my front pocket. I tear my eyes away and answer, only expecting one person to be making this call.

"Yes?"

"We need to meet. I have a house in the outskirts. Come alone." Then he hung up. I didn't have to say a word for Edward to take the hint.

"I'll be at the hotel," he said and started to run.

oOo

I didn't knock or introduce my presence. The house was small and creaked with every footstep. Old wooden floors that would make a heavy human fall through. At least he knew how to pick a place.

"Talk," I commanded. Ben was seated at a small desk in the middle of a room. He'd found a means of electricity since I doubted the house was that new. A new laptop idled on the wooden top, along with several thick self-written books and an older one. Brown, leather bound, Latin scripts on the spine.

"Who's with you?"

"I'm alone."

"Not now. Before." I shook my head.

"None of your concern. Now talk." He grumbled a sigh and sat down at his desk, typing furiously into the computer.

"There's been talk of an old family since, like, forever." Modern times have not been cont to his vocabulary. "Now days there aren't many witches left. In the low hundreds, would be my guess. Most of them don't even know and some choose not to acknowledge. All better for us. Is he like a boyfriend or something?"

"Talk."

"Okay, so; it's hard to keep such a long bloodline. You have to reproduce and keep the child alive well into adulthood."

"Obviously."

"Yes but there wasn't much in the medical department before and people had a tendency of dropping. Most families today have descendants that predate history but because they've been so diluted, they might as well not even be acknowledged as witched. This is the séance and fortune cookie people."

"Growing old here," I complained with heavy sarcasm.

"But!" he exclaimed, needing my approval more than to be annoyed with my attitude. "There are few who still practices regularly."

"And they're so easy to find?"

"Actually, yes. They're not exactly quiet about their supernatural abilities." I smiled. Humans and their greed. "I've been tracking them for a while. It's good to know who your enemies are." My hand grasped his shoulder tightly. Ben winched.

"Do they know you're tracking them?"

"Of course not- ow!"

"Are you sure? You're not the best at being discrete."

"Yes, I'm sure." I let him go, gently running my palm over the would-be wound; thumb rubbing the side of his neck.

"Please continue."

"I don't know which is oldest but there's a family in Bulgaria. I've been watching them for a while. They grew up in Seattle. Move three years ago."

"Cause unknown?" He smiled; hiding a secret he knew would make me appreciate him.

"Oldest kid was mauled by an animal in the woods behind their house. Very tragic." He handed me several sheets of photo paper. Each depicting several angles of a young boy. The whole patch of skin reaching from the very tip of his shoulder to just below his ear had been torn open. Hollow eyes screamed at the camera.

His skin had paled into a repulsive grey, not a hint of blood anywhere. Which only made the rippled parts look even more deranged than if they had been hidden beneath crimson floods. No doubt the work of a vampire and with only one look I'd say newborn. But thinking about it; the coincidence was too great.

"Other offspring?" Ben nodded and handed me a family photo containing three. "This is from six months ago." Two adults and one small child; a girl with golden skin and ginger hair. The father smiled brightly and held onto his daughters shoulder for support. But it was the mother who caught my attention.

A simple setting of silver dipped in marcasite, the necklace wove around her neck, the flowery pendant dropped below the meeting of her collarbones. It was pretty but not flashy. Valuable but overlooked by greedy hands who sought out diamonds and gemstones.

"Did they make a stop before… where do they live?"

"Some place called Veliko Tarnovo. They flew from Seattle to New York to Paris then Sofia and then…" but I had already stopped listening. It no longer mattered that I had been fooled by humans. What mattered was who could have told them of its location.

Dmitri enjoyed my company too much to try and deceive me. He wouldn't have sent me to Ben in such a case. And Ben knew nothing of its origin or what is really is I'm looking for. I couldn't think of any other soul I have told.

Then someone must have seen me dispose of it. Not a human, I'd made sure there were no heartbeats around. But another vampire… a strong possibility.

But who?

Does it matter?

They might be following me.

No that's not it. I've felt a presence many times over the years but a quick retreat is all it takes for the nagging to go away. I only now know it was Aro's little spies trying to locate me.

I thought back to the day. It was early morning. The sun had yet to come. I had been pacing my room all night. Nothing out of the ordinary but with news of the revolution traveling fast, I had finally come to terms with leaving in the stillness. But I feared, even as a vampire, I would be exposed. There were guards everywhere. No one would be allowed in or out of the country. I would have to play my part.

Being associated with the queen would surely have me thrown into a cell. Stripped of my dignity and patience. And diamonds. I clutch the necklace and started thinking harder.

It was just before coming to the socialites of Paris that I had required the necklace. I had been fascinated with the simplicity but at the first touch, I swore I felt a… twitch. I can still feel the pricking sensation on the tip of my forefinger. Baffled by the suddenness, I had taken it to Dmitri; the only other person I dared trust at least some of my secrets with.

Although he had not known of any jewelry or otherwise who could have conjured such an act, he told me not to destroy it. I had kept it on me nearly every day since that conversation but standing in my own apartment at the palace with a marching band coming to seize the monarchy, I had to get out of there.

I went to the Petit Trianon – as I told Edward – and took the darkest piece of silver I could find. The box opened uneasily as I laid the necklace down. I briefly worried it wouldn't hold the years that might go by before I have a chance to pick it up again but such thoughts left before they had a chance to fester.

I went to the crossing of the gigantic lake and threw it with a precise arm so it hit the exact middle. No one would come too close nor would they dive in to seek possible riches. They would get what they wanted from the palaces.

"Bella?" My eyes dropped into Ben's while cocking my head.

"Yes?"

"You disappeared there for a while." I smiled sweetly.

"My apologies."

"Is this what you wanted?" I smiled wider while nodding. He seemed relieved and relished in the spotlight. How pathetic.

"Might you have an address for me?" I caressed his left cheek, my fingertip ghosting over his skin. He nodded vigorously and handed me a small slip of paper. "Thank you my dear."

"Are you leaving?" he asked with a heartbroken expression. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and sigh. It was hard.

"I have to darling. I have some people I need to meet." He pouted like a child. In the technical sense he was several years older than me but for some reason he still acted like a moody teenager. Not much unlike myself at certain low points.

"It's been so long," he says sighing and touched the small of my back; hand coming up under my shirt. I nod and wove my arms around his frame. He pulled my close, resting his chin on my shoulder.

"I'll see you soon," I breathed and kissed his cheek before rushing into the misty outside.

Edward was reclining on the bed when I returned. He was fiddling with his phone. Sounds I didn't know from games I didn't play shouted form the tiny speakers. "Did he have valuable information?" I sighed and shook my head ; playing my part well.

"Sadly no. He hasn't heard anything."

"So what now?" I sat down next to his leg, moving them out of the way so I could fold one of my own under my frame.

"Now you go home." He finally put the phone down, cocking his head.

"I said I'd help-"

"And you have. But the next step will take much longer than anticipated and you need to go home." I saw he was about to dispute my unsaid words but I beat him too it. "I don't want you to come with me." My voice was cutting but soft.

He looked disappointed. And as much as I don't mind the company I cannot have him with me when I get the necklace back. For some unknown reason I don't want him to see me in such a light. True, he has seen me devour and meaninglessly slaughter people. But those actions always had a purpose of food. Now I wanted revenge and he was not going seeing that.

He stared at me the way he did when he wanted to know what I was thinking. I grew used to his silence instead of questions, a long time ago. But that didn't mean it wasn't any less annoying. Even if I only complained when he asked me question after menial question.

"That's it?" I hesitated. I knew what he meant. Not that the topic of the conversation was done but if we would ever see each other again. It's naïve to think we would never cross paths again but that wasn't entirely his question either.

"I don't know." It wasn't a lie. But not quite the truth. Though not saying the entire sentence isn't lying so much as not telling the entire story. "For now." That would have to do for now.

Nodding, Edward sat up and moved past me. He grabbed his jacket which he had slung over the small desk chair to the left of entering the door. Shrugging it on, I stood as well, prepared to leave only minutes after he was gone.

Then suddenly I was rushed with a pang of fear Alice might rat me out. See something the moment he came home. But I knew that if she were looking into my future, the vision would come today. I only hoped she had the decency not to show it to him.

Shit! Why did I care?!

I leaned against the four poster railing, crossing my ankles back and forth. Having gathered his tuff Edward leaned quickly forward and pressed his lips to mine. The indentation was soft and welcoming.

"Bye Bells," he whispered against me. Then he was gone.

I stood by the bed for ten minutes before dicing enough time had gone by. I called the airline while gathering any evidence of my presence. I would have to land in London but the layover proved opportunistic. I could form my plan in detail while finding new clothes. I knew I had an addiction but the part of me that was still human craved new fashion every two to three days. If not every.

I left the humid town in a stolen Beemer. The light disappeared quickly; shattering the illusion that summer still prevailed in the uncommonly warm November town.


	19. Dogs never bite me Just humans

"_Dogs never bite me. Just humans"_

The layover in London proved longer than anticipated. First the flight was delayed by two hours out of bad weather. Then it was pushed furthest down the technological list of flight on the gigantic screen above the massive hall of benches and tables. Before finally disappearing altogether.

My limited patience was thinning. It had barely taken me an hour to gather new clothes. Which were ridiculously overprices. Even for someone with unlimited access to money. In the bathroom I pulled on my new costume. It's the only word that fit when I would dress for an occasion. It wasn't me and yet the clothes were the same.

A black slightly loose t-shirt in satin, rather than cotton clung at my hips but flowed gently everywhere else. Dark blue jeggings and my old but very trustworthy pleather jacket. I realized the length of the sleeves – only reaching the elbows – might give warning sighs but throwing on a thick cable knit scarf and arm warmers, people didn't look too closely. I drew back my hair in a tight bun, securing it to my scull, the same way I did when I took ballet lessons in Italy.

And while I had been missing the added high heels have been giving me for quite some time now, I forced my feet down a part of black knee high boots where the top folded down over my knee. Still enclosed around my right forefinger was the aging mood ring. But I added a white gold chain with a dark silver rose resting in my plunging neckline – thorns and stem.

We were in the sixth hour of waiting and my fellow passengers were getting antsy. I was more aware of the now than ever before. I knew it was the cause of the animal blood but still… I could resist. It wasn't worse than two weeks of no blood. It felt… easy. As if I could do it again without major complaint.

I wasn't sure I liked my revelation. I was betraying everything I knew and believed in for something I was never going to have but probably wouldn't have a problem with it if I did.

I sighed, my inner monologue irritating me beyond belief.

A disgruntled passenger – whom I had seen arguing animatedly with an airline official the other hour – stood and a relieved expression flooded his features. I let my gaze turn towards his and true enough, our flight was on the board once more. This time with a departure.

Twenty minutes later everyone was in seat and the captain was apologizing for our rude delay. The flight takes off to a bumpy start. I flip down the slide, feeling nothing of the outside could calm me now. I haven't once thought of the outcome of my actions. But this was one time I'm willing to give myself a pass. Anything I do it's irreversible – for sure – but I won't allow myself to feel anything.

We land at the edge of night in Sofia. Everyone is tired and complaining. I slip out before anyone's had time to realize the doors are open. I've disposed of most of my belongings. The laptop lay in splinters at the bottom of a Burger King trashcan. The duffle bag will suit someone homeless in a day or two. The rest of my remaining life scatters in the wind. Only the single lira lies in the right cup of my bra. The metal digging into my flesh in a comforting way.

It's irrational – since they're only objects – but it's the only things I had that were my own. That I've collected over the years. Of course some lies in date stamped boxes raging in every kind of different sizes.

With a shake of my head I no longer care about it. Instead I quicken my pace to the outskirts where I find some forest. And then I start to run.

The trees melt together as one. I jump over roads and highways; human seeing nothing but a dark flash. The terrain shoots up and down, fallen logs here as well. And boulders the size of a monster truck.

Dawn is approaching once I finally reach the city. My pace slows as I click down the small and interwoven streets. Not even one hundred thousand citizens. I saw it clearly. It was a place of residence, not a tourist attracting though I knew they gathered regular of those based on history.

I padded up and down cobblestoned drives, searching for the right address. I came to the far east of town before it was getting clearer. People were waking up, rushing through their morning routines. I waited as they emptied before stumbling on the house I had been searching for.

The house was empty. I hear no beats from within the walls. But I still waited until the closest neighbors' had left – which were still a long while away – before allowing myself to step out from the shadows of the forest.

The house was engulfed by the scenery. A driveway led up to two garage doors. I move further up the path which thinned before stopping at wooden steps. I ascended slowly, my feet heavy on the tree. The deck stretched around the house. I took the right side, watching the town lying at my feet. I cock my head at the sight. It was pretty. But the house felt out of place nonetheless.

Every wall, except the entire eastern one was engulfed in glass. The deck prodded outward more at the back, revealing four fluffy chairs and a similar themed square table set in the middle of the group.

I turn and find a sliding door with black metallic features framing it. I try the claps and it gives way with my hand. I quickly slip inside soundlessly. The house is not big by any means. There's a stone square rod in the middle of the design. A dark cemented staircase wove round the piece before disappearing into a second level. From the look of the outside there is but one bedroom and a bath up there.

Next to the front door, pushed furthest into the glass wall is a descending staircase in the same dark cement. I stroll down to reveal two doors. One leads to the master bedroom underneath the building – hidden from the outside views. As I walk inside I find that the entire wall right below the prodding deck with the four chairs had been replaced by glass. Light streamed inside, illuminating both the bedroom as well as the bath.

I turn the handle on the other door – mirroring the one to the master suit – and find a gateway to the garage with a tunnel that goes beneath the earth. Clever.

I come back to the first landing, observing its modern simplicity. The kitchen is set in a square-like shape, the left side of the house prodding out in one direction. A row of granite topped cupboards line the three walls. A large but similar in design island is situated in the idle. Gas hob that can fit five skillets at the same time. An intricate design of hanging sauce- and frying pans hung high enough for a grown pan to reach but too low for a child.

I rounded the stoned square and found the group of couches surrounding a large and impressive television set. As I've finished my assessment, now is as good a time as to search the place.

Though I already knew – what I would find out an hour later – is that the necklace isn't here. Of course it isn't. Only a fool would hide it within their own property. But then begs the question; where? I knew they wouldn't leave it far behind. Only someone willing to take risk would throw it into a lake. I won't take such risks anymore.

Now all I could do was waiting for them to come home.

oOo

Eight hours, thirty-seven minutes and fourteen seconds.

That's how long it took before sound of a car alerted me of an approaching presence. I stand on the porch, watching the father drive into the garage and start his ascent up the partially hidden staircase. I rejoin inside, deciding for a more dramatic entrance.

"Tell him," I said to the darkness, "and I will ruin you." I wasn't sure if Alice would be watching but if she did, she should know not to talk. Though I wondered how well she could keep a secret.

The man comes up the stairs, sifting through white envelopes. He threw the contents onto the kitchen island before shrugging off his blazer and tie, throwing them too carelessly onto the granite top. With a sigh he starts opening in envelope. Then suddenly his frame freeze.

I suppress a sinister smirk as he is not aware of my presence.

"Good evening," I say, trying to sound calm and collected. The man lays down the bill and turns. For a moment I'm sure his mind rummage through the endless human possibilities before landing on the right – and my eyes.

He flinch back against the island, watching me with wide eyes as I step out from the shadows, circling him until my back is to both the front door, downstairs and upstairs.

"You know what I am?" He only nods. I think he's temporarily misplaced the use of his voice. No matter. "Good. Then this should go very smoothly. Where is the necklace?"

Confusion, shock and fear all ripple over his handsome features. Then finally recognition hits home. But he tries to lie. "I don't know what you mean." His voice shakes; a dead giveaway.

"Oh sure you do," I say. "It will be hard for my ego to recover from being outsmarted by humans but give it back now and I'll leave in peace." Of course I wouldn't but we are good liars. It's all part of immortality and having nothing to lose. Ever.

"I don't have it," he tried, his gaze flickering to the front door. But when he makes no move to run – though he knows he can't outrun me, he still has human fighting instincts – a smirk plays at my lips.

"Are we expecting someone?" Just then I hear the sound of another car. Two heartbeats follow.

"Please," he pleads but it's to no use.

"Five seconds," I threaten but as soon as the footsteps are on the steps, it's too late and the despair in his eyes shows it to ever extent.

For a second the mother and daughter only sees their husband and father. The daughter makes a move to run but he quickly stops her with harsh words. That's when they notice me. The mother tries to shoo the girl down but futile.

I flitter behind the mother, grasp the back of her head tightly and bash it into the floor. A deep gasp embeds itself into her forehead. I snatch the girl to my front, sinking into a crouch behind her right shoulder, holder her in place. I whisper soothing words in her ears. She calms noticeably.

The man stares at me in shock and horror. The true expression one should get when coming face to face with an immortal such as myself.

"Have you seen a pretty necklace?" I murmur into the child's ear. "It's silver with flowers and a little gold on it." The girl's heart skips a beat before she nods. "Do you know where it is?" I carefully watch her father's expression. He's frozen in sight, gaze moving up and down from his daughter to his wife. Whom I presume he thinks is dead. She's not. Unconscious and going to wake up with a screaming headache and no recollection of my visit.

"No," the girl whispers. She's frightened but it's been downsized by my words of encouragement.

"Okay," I whisper back, standing once more.

"You would use a child?!" he hisses at me. I feel the girl flinch back and involuntarily hit my leg.

"I'll use anyone to get what I want. Now; the necklace?" He stands his ground. I lower myself back down. The girl is barely ten years old. I felt a twitch of regret at what I was about to do but I tried to reassure myself it would be alright in the end.

I took the girl right wrist, running my fingertip up and down the brittle skin. Her father's eyes widened further at where my thoughts were headed.

"No," he breathed. "Please, no. Please. She's all I have."

"The necklace," I commanded, thumb circling the pulsating vein.

"It's not yours."

"Nor yours. And I have better ways of keeping it from the wrong hands."

"Like throwing it in a lake?!" I drew back, taking a deep breath.

"I won't make the same mistake twice."

"It's not powerful," he tried to reason.

"Makes no difference."

"Then why are you doing this?"

"Because you're so deemed on keeping it from me it has to be important!" They both flinch at my harsh and loud words. "Give it to me now or pay the consequences." He hesitated.

"I don't. I'm not. I can't. I don't know where it is." I sighed softly, never letting my eyes leave his.

"Wrong answer." And then I plunged my teeth into his daughter's wrist.

The response was immediate. The girl gasped in pain and the man started sobbing. But then I retreated, letting the girl fall to the floor on her back, thrashing. Soon she would scream.

"What did you do?!" he shouted, falling to the girl's side. Her legs treaded and her arms vibrated. Then came a high pitched scream. I suppressed a winch.

"You have twenty-seven seconds before the venom's progressed too far." He looked at me with shocked teary eyes.

"You can't reverse this."

"Yes I can. Twenty-four." The man looked down helplessly at his daughter, sobbing as she screamed and cried. "Twenty seconds. Time is running out."

He wailed, wanting to know from a pretend higher source what to do. I waited patiently. But then the seconds diminished to eleven. Ten. "You have eight se-"

"It's buried in the forest. I'll show you. Please help h-" I had already sunk to my knees and her wrist was back at my mouth. I pushed my lips forward as if sucking through a straw and placed them at her skin.

The blood flooded generously down my throat. The burn that never left with the animal blood vanished completely as I sucked the venom out. I heard her father curse and prey and whisper soothing words to himself. Six seconds is all it took. I felt the last tinge of poison leave the girl's body. Her frame had gone limp but there was still a pulse.

I let her go, feeling blood on my bottom lip.

"Is she…?" he prodded breathlessly.

"She'll be fine," I assure him. "Human."

"My wife?"

"Won't remember anything." He seemed relieved. So he was the one the bloodline somewhat ended with. I remember the young woman who had it before me. I don't see a connection anywhere but the color of their hair. Raven.

"Show me now," I demanded.

The man quickly placed the bodies in the bed downstairs before leading me out into the night. We walked for a while before coming to an old oak tree. He stopped at the base, showing a circling made from the roots. He started shoveling until there was a distinctive metal on wood noise. He retrieved an old wooden box from the ground and opened it.

The fear and angst I had been feeling since realizing the small and possibly insignificant piece of jewelry had gone missing vanished. A load had been listed from my chest, allowing me to breathe again. I took the delicate piece, breathing out once more.

How such a small thing could be the cause of such disruption. But it no longer bothered me. I would make another deposit in Zürich and eagerly wonder of its destination. I wondered if people in the banks ever thought of the mysterious packaged they received from Switzerland. Surely none would bother enough to open one of them; even if they did there was nothing incrementing or that stood out in general.

"Will you leave now?" the man demanded, sounding frightened but there was an edge to it.

"Does your family know of your ancestors'?" He stared at me, confused.

"No," he said slowly. I nodded, relieved again.

"Good." And then he understood.

He didn't have time to blink before my hands clasped on his head and wrung it in an unnatural posture. The neck snapped like a twig, the body slumped to the ground.

I placed the necklace on my pocket and reburied the empty box. I threw the shovel away and brought the man back up to the house. Standing on the porch – with no secure railing – I watched the valley below. So many trees. Such huge rocks.

I pulled the body up before gently pushing. He flipped over the glass railing that separated a certain death and crashed into a tree, tumbling further down until getting pinned by a boulder.

The head had burst open, leaving a long trail of blood in its wake. I observed the red streaks before leaving the sight, coming to a stop by the garage. I took the man's car, driving it to the boarder before letting it idle by the side of the road with the door open.

Then I started to run.

I swept up mountains and down valleys. The speed exhilarated me. Made me feel free. I tried to push further, feeling surprised when I did. I soared through the night and coming day. The sun peeked up a few times, making my travel abruptly halt.

I didn't have to worry in the woods by as I came at the edges of the city; I slowed down, feeling my goal was within my grasp again. I had disposed of the arm warmers and scarf a long time ago and needed a new cover. But people were paying no attention to me. I could very well be living here, sprinting down the street to grab some milk I'm always hearing people are running out of.

The sight of the bank made my dead unmoving heart twitch – if such an emotion could ever happen. I hurried over the lot, walking into the cold room, stripped of plants and descent colors for the walls.

I recognized the cashier and if felt certain she would recognize me too. I stood in her line – one that seemed to take much longer than everyone else's, but patience was no burden today.

As I came to the front, she met my gaze and flinched back. She didn't need to see my card before I was ushered into the same office as before. The man facing me turned pale at my sight. A resolved look clouded his face as he waved me down to sit.

"I was hoping I wouldn't see you again," he was brave enough to admit.

"Hopefully this will be the last time," I promise him, watching as he brings forth an envelope and a similar small paper box. "I'll need a bigger one this time."

The man left me alone with my thoughts and a new date added onto the white papery texture. As the weight added into the sealing envelope I thought with much depression; now what?

I remembered my reason for leaving Europe in the first place but it seemed the wolves had scattered to the wind. The Volturi hadn't bothered me anymore. And best of all; no discrete hints of Thomas. Not a whisper. Not even the paranoid feeling that I was being watched.

So what now?

oOo

In the afternoon of March twenty-third I'm standing on a busy street in St Petersburg. The cobblestones have long ago been replaced by dark grey asphalt. Dull and without a trace of the long gone aristocratic input. The snow has passed and I see the relief in people's eyes and hear it in their sighs.

My shoes click in rhythm on the stony street, marking my location to anyone who would have a reason to look. I too am relieved the cold has decided to leave a few weeks ahead of normal schedule. Treading through snow with the human eyes watching your every move – though they're not always aware of it – is tedious in itself.

I come to the end of the street and look upon the place that I once used to reside. I'm not sure what I had expected to find. Rubble would have been ridiculous. Maybe I thought they would rebuild it. Use the large space for a mall. But there was neither of those things.

A park lay before me. Greenery everywhere. People riding their bikes, some walking their dogs, others recline on the benches; conversing and reading books. Tall trees dominate the place. And in the centre a figure made of stone. Well not so much a figure as a memorial with a face at the top; carved in marble.

I don't know why or even how the scene before me had become a possibility. But letting my eyes shimmer over his image from such a far away position, his empty face haunted me even further. I felt a shiver run down my spine at the macabre site. I wonder if they found him. Or if they just assumed. Maybe its better I don't know. But even while filing the questions away I know I'll never be able to stop thinking about all the what ifs.

What if he hadn't died that night, would I still have left? I felt quite certain that I would.

What if he hadn't died and I couldn't make myself leave? Would I have turned him?

Would he have wanted to be turned? No, no he wouldn't have. Could I have made him want it?

I'm certainly selfish enough for it.

It was the first and last time I looked upon the sight since the fire. Something had happened to me that night. As broken as I had become, I felt it wasn't a complete waste of time. Of course I didn't have that realization until many years later. But still…

I take my walk north, watching the humans scurry past me. Many are angry over being late for work and school. I can see the frustration in the patch of skin between their eyebrows. No one notice me. I neatly dodge each and every one of their unintentional fails at bumping their shoulder into me in hurry. Their natural lack of grace once annoyed me but now I couldn't help but find it amusing.

I continued north and came to the comforting scenery of the forest that would take me to my location. I don't have to hide or keep the human pace but I do. Why rush when you have all of eternity?

He was already waiting for me. Of course. Dmitri opened the door as I stood to knock. More out of courtesy than necessity. With a wide and welcoming smile he ushered me inside. Candles lit the open room, making our shadows appear gloomy and ominous. I took a seat in a burgundy colored velvet couch.

"I hope this means you found it?" Dmitri asked and sat down to my left. I brought my legs up and folded them beneath me.

"Yes." I wasn't trying to be rude but I couldn't help but find the one word dismissive.

"How did it go?" I sighed, reminding myself I had given myself a pass and while the two still alive humans wouldn't remember anything, what I had done was still unforgivable.

"As expected," I said.

"May I ask where you've placed it?" I smirk.

"You know how I like my secrets. Besides, if a time ever comes I'm sure you will be able to figure it out." But he would only find empty records in Zürich. There's nothing tying me to Italy except old ballet lessons and a few trips here and there to Rome. I've never gone to the bank itself. Never seen it's insides. But imagine my endless supply of funds have bought me a gothic tomb-like vault far down in the earth.

Dmitri hums at my cryptic response but says nothing further on the matter.

"Now tell me, who was that man you came here with?" I wasn't comfortable with the way his thoughts carried. But Dmitri has been nothing but helpful and I owe him any answers he wishes.

"Just an old friend." Not a lie. "He wanted to help."

"And where is he now? I would have suspected you to bring him here again."

"He has his family."

"Hmm yes, Carlisle. Brilliant man. But I've always thought him too… weak." I tilt my head to the side.

"How so?"

"Well why anyone would choose to feed on animals when there's such a better alternative is beyond me." I know the emotional response but I don't dare say it in Dmitri's presence. Instead I shake my head with a scoff.

"I know. Ridiculous." Running a hand through my wavy hair, I sneak a glance out into the night. The lack of light having no affect on my sight.

"What troubles you, my dear?" I shrug, finding this emotion wrong and unfamiliar. "Oh! I know what will cheer you up!" He jumped from his place and I followed him with my gaze, watching as he stood in front of the bookcase, finger on his chin, deep in thought. "Ah!" He brought out a brown leather-bound book with a red banner on the spine; the title spelled in gold.

"Dracula?" I deadpanned when he gently eased it into my open palm. Surprising smirk at my initial reaction, Dmitri sat down next to me again with a not.

"It was too ironic to leave behind. I was stalking this woman. She was very paranoid, turning around every five meters. Finally she called out, demanding to know who was following her. I wanted to have some fun so I let her see me. I don't know how but she immediately knows what I am. She tries to scream but of course not a sound is heard. It's only until after – and I might have gotten a little creative – that I noticed the book. I don't know what kind of lines she drew from that book but that expression will never cease so amuse me." He chuckled.

My gaze drew down, flipping through the pages. It was old. Probably one of the first publications. It smelled of moisture and just a hint of mildew.

"Thanks," I said honestly, knowing there was no alternative even though my skin was crawling with his story. I didn't know why. I've done the same a thousand times. I sometimes fantasized how I would claim my new victim but it was the way he said it… I think.

"You're very welcome. Would you like us to head into town? It's barely been a week but I can keep you company." He must see the blackness of my eyes. It's true I could feed now – or in a few days – but I wasn't feeling up for a trip with Dmitri. Sometime his words alarmed me. It's a good thing I'm such an accomplished liar or else he would get suspicious.

"No, thank you. I just wanted to drop by and see you real quick." He seemed disappointed. Good. Better to disappoint than raise suspicion.

"You're already leaving?" I nodded solemnly.

"I'm sorry I can't stay longer."

"Well alright then," he said quietly, leading me to the door. He hugged me tightly, running a hand down the length of my hair. I was surprised by his sudden compassion. I'm not one for intimate embraces – that's what I call hugs – but I've always allowed it whenever someone else takes the first step. But Dmitri is much like me – or I like him – he just doesn't do the human emotions. Maybe he's been missing a companion so much. A pang of guilt settled in my stomach as I leave my mentor. I don't dare call him friend but we have a relationship I can't quite determine but maybe it's all right to keep going the way we have been.

And now I'm confusing myself again.

I wander aimlessly though the forest, not sure which path to choose. True, I could have stayed in the cottage for these musings but something made me leave ahead of schedule. Paranoia. But I felt certain I wasn't being followed. The only sounds were that of my ridiculously high boots for forest travels and the mindless chats of the mice and owls all around me now that I've strayed far enough away.

But there was still… something. In the back of my head. I couldn't scratch the itch that something would happen soon. As if I couldn't bare it anymore, I turned my head around, peering from behind the clutter that is my hair. My arms fall limply at my side, right hand still clutching the book.

I narrow my eyes into the masses of dark pines.

Nothing. Not a shape or sound. I expand my hearing. I couldn't hear the insides of the cottage anymore but I knew it lay behind me, slightly angled to the left. I took a step back, feeling the tip of the thin heel sink into the earth.

I felt ridiculous. There was no one around. So why did I have this _feeling_? I scoffed at my thoughts. Feelings. Fuck them all. I look down at the ancient book and then toss it to the ground.

Not ten minutes later did the feeling return. I drew up short, not breathing anymore.

Behind me, almost a mile away by the muteness, there was a sniff. Not a sound a human would make. Nor a vampire since we don't get cold. And it was too loud for a fox to have made it.

I slowly turned, peering into the darkness. Movement. Something heavy on the partially frozen ground. I took a fragile step back, eyes turning from right to left rapidly. That's when I smelled it. An icy breeze waves through the trees and ruffles a few strands of my hair. A stench I could never forget.

In the split second it took for me to connect, the animal charged. As soon as its paws closed on the ground, I turn and started running.

If any humans would have been out here tonight they would not have seen me. I can't remember a time I have run any faster. It wasn't that the presence of a werewolf made me weak with fear.

Three did.

It was impossible to miss. Twelve paws pounding on the ground. Their breaths mixed with a deep growl. They must have caught my scent a while back. I knew I wasn't crazy. Though that is little comfort to me now as they're gaining on me. I grumbled at their speed and my lack of feeding before coming here. But of course I was still faster. But that wouldn't mean anything in the end. I was severely outnumbered. And I was too far away to turn and seek Dmitri's help. Not that I would even if I wasn't. I can't ask for help. It's not in me.

But instead of making it easy as a sitting duck I coiled my legs and jumped to the closest tree. My fingers pushed into the bark, crunching it. I saw them now. And they definitely saw me.

I pushed my feet into the bark, flipped back until I crashed into another tree. The branches proved no help but I didn't need them. I jumped further and only stopped as I smelled it in the air. Rain. My head turned up as a drop slid down my cheek. The panting heightened and there was a crash as they clawed at the tree. I released my grasp and pushed back four trees.

They were two seconds too late in figuring out I had left. Two seconds was all I needed.

A heavy drizzle had come on, washing my scent everywhere and nowhere. I let go of the bark, coming into a crouch. It was silent again. I heard their heartbeats – much heavier than any human – but they had stopped their attack. And if I moved, they would know.

My gaze turned everywhere, searching for an answer.

I was getting pissed off too. Venom flooded greedily at the thought of smashing my arms through their bodies, grasping their puny hearts and squishing.

I started easy, hearing them come after me. It was too late when I noticed there were only two behind me. When I heard the third one he was right beside me, knocking into my side, flinging me hard into a thick trunk, cracking the interior.

I fell to my knee and palms, standing up and let it come. His mouth was open in a snarl, saliva coating its teeth. When it was less than three meters away I pushed into the air, did a twisted flip and landed gracefully on the tips of my feet behind it.

The animal was thrown by my unexpected movement. He tumbled to the side and it gave me enough time to fling away.

Everything went in slow motion. My hair flew behind me; soaked. My feet barely touched the ground anymore. I saw a bird flying above me and fell back.

The beasts crashed into fallen tree trunks and spewed dirt everywhere. I jumped up in a log of greenery, feeling it shatter beneath my feet just as I tipped off. Catching sight of a thin tree up ahead, I grasped the trunk, rounding it and crashing my feet into the predator's ribcage. He tumbled to the side; whimpering. Letting go I flipped in the air, landing softly in a crouch and into the waiting company of wolf two.

The third one was still a few yards away, coming slightly slower, his back paw limping slightly. In the very last second, I sunk to the ground, feeling the animal jump over me in surprise. As he was halfway over, I grabbed his sides with a penetrating hand and we tumbled to the ground.

He snapped his mouth and me and I struggled as I searched for his heart. I used my right hand to push his jaw up, while my fingers were ghosting over the pulsating organ. I clenched my teeth and grasped it, mashing it beyond recognition. The animal's eyes widened before the pupil dilated completely.

The third one came just as I pushed the wolf off me and onto him. He crashed into a tree trunk, back first. I didn't wait to listen if I heard a crack for the one I'd broken the ribs on had regained enough consciousness to attack me again.

His arms or whatever they are encircle me and we crashed to the ground. His mouth came down on me but I just managed to push my feet into his diaphragm, flinging him somewhere behind me. This time I heard a crack. I was on my feet a fifteenth second later.

The one I'd crashed into the tree was gone. My head whipped around, hands clenched, searching for him.

My mouth was set, limps tensed, muscles ready to coil at the first sight of danger. But he came behind me. I had too little time to react. I barely managed to turn around before he had me pinned to another trunk. He was more aggressive. And stronger. I caught his head but had to use both hands. Which meant that when his paw – more precisely; his claws – pushed back for attack, I could do nothing.

I felt the claws scratch the upper part of my right thigh. I prodded my hands into his mouth. The saliva soaked my palms and fingers, making it difficult to get a good grasp. But I caught the jaw and upper front row of teeth and didn't think about it but pulled it apart.

Blood splattered around me – on me. My left arm was covered and I felt my hair clump together from the sticky matter. But it had no affect on me. I wouldn't taste their blood if it brought me back to life.

I didn't realize I had sunk down until there was a whimper behind me. I was still gasping for air I didn't need; my eyes wide in both fear and shock.

I wanted to stand and rip the imbecile to pieces but I feared my knees might give out. I looked down to my blood smeared hands. I could still feel its teeth digging into my diamond skin; begging for penetration.

The whimper persisted. My eyes flashed and I stomped over there, grasping him by his throat, slamming his back into a tree. I saw fear flash in his wide eyes as he looking into mine. My hand trembled, wanting so bad to pulverize him. I inclined my head to the side, keeping my expression and voice calm.

"Who are you?" He gasped for air; still staring at me. I clenched my hand a little. His arms struggled, trying to scratch me off but all he did was make blood pool from under his nails. His gaze shifted to my right for just a second.

"Answer me!" I growled, feeling so much like a true mythological vampire in that moment. The man gasped before his eyes shut, slumping around my hand. I had accidentally crushed too hard. My hand flexed and the body dropped hard. I looked back at the other two. Massacre is the word that comes to mind.

This will not go unnoticed. But it wasn't my problem.

But then something flashed in my mind. For a split second my mind brought up the connection that he had been looking towards Dmitri. Not wanting to believe such nonsense, I listened closely; needing to prove myself wrong. But what I heard wasn't nothing.

A pair of feet – hurrying away; becoming quieter and quieter. My mouth opened in a strangled gasp. My gaze followed the sound until I couldn't hear it anymore. I looked down in despair, trying to swallow away the initial denial.

It could be anyone.

But I knew it wasn't.

So why had he betrayed me like this? He has been nothing but pleasant the entire eveni- he wanted me to stay. For them?

My eyes drew to the bodies.

Would he have handed over me so easily? Not a care in the world? After three-hundred years?!

And then a name came to mind. Volturi.

He knew them. He's stayed with them. He was them!

A hiss ripped from my lips as my hands clenched.

He would do this to me. For _them_. I don't know when this vendetta started but I have done nothing to them!

I took a step forward before stopping myself. Would I really do this? He's been… everything. Maybe he didn't… he could have heard… But then he would have come. Helped. For lack of a better word, he's been a father to me. Maybe I should be used to fathers trying to kill me by now.

With a last dismissive glance at the corpses I set off in a run, knowing he would be in his cottage. Even if he was behind this, he wouldn't leave. But he's so much older. But years don't necessarily mean stronger. But he's seen more. But he's been sheltered most his existence. He doesn't seek company. He doesn't seek confrontations. That could be my advantage.

I didn't stop when I saw the house but charged right inside, cocking my head as I saw him reaching from the velvet couch. Dmitri looked shocked at my outfit. I have looked worse.

"Isabella! What happened?!" He threw away his book, coming to stand in front of me. My eyes flittered down to his dirt-covered boots and then back up to this face. He saw where my thoughts had turned and took a step back, hands down at his sides.

"I'm not sure," I start, my voice eerily even. "Perhaps you'd like to fill me in." He looked appalled.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He was a good liar. I should have seen this coming.

"You were out there; you saw it." He licked his lips, searching for words. Obviously he found none. "I don't take kindly to people trying to have me killed." Now he was outraged.

"Killed?! I have no idea what you are talking about!" My lips drew back at his lie. I couldn't stand it anymore. And so I grabbed the front of his jacket, flushing his back to the wall.

"The fuck you do!" I snarled. He recovered ground and threw me back. I flipped in midair, landing in my feet, standing. He was in front of me, grabbing the side of my neck, crashing my front into the wall. The air was knocked out or my lungs, his lips at my ears.

"I would never hurt you!" he whispered, sounding both angry and apologetic. I pushed away from the wall, turning and lifting my foot, kicking him straight in the chest. He was flung back a few feet but otherwise never lost his footing.

Charging at me, he took hold of my arms, trying to tumble us to the ground. I shifted before crashing into the flood, we both flipped over and I had him pinned to the ground, hand at his throat. "Then why?!" I yelled, surprised when he kicked my stomach. I flew back into the door, him pinning me to it.

"I wasn't trying to kill you! I was teaching you a lesson!" Fury flooded me. I twisted us around, crashing him to the floor again, holder harder at his throat.

"And what lesson is that? Have them rip me apart before you put me back together, like you're some fucking hero?!"

He grabbed hold of me, rolling us over, straddling my legs, making it impossible to kick. He grabbed at my struggling hands. "I need you to know you can't take these risks!"

"What risks?!"

"Associating with humans and _them_!" I stopped struggling, my eyes frozen on his.

"What?" My voice was barely a whisper.

"Invisible! Is that so hard for you to understand?!" I could barely believe his words.

"I don't- I… what?" His grip lessened and he got off me, making no move to help me up. I watched his form round the cabin before I sat up and then stood.

"I taught you to cover your tracks. Stay out of peoples business. Be invisible." I stood by the door if I had to make a quick retreat.

"I don't understand." A disgruntled noise came from his chest.

"The Volturi don't trust them. And neither should you!" I flinched at his tone.

"And why do I have to care what the Volturi cares about?" He sighed.

"Because they can dig up more than Russia for reasons to end your existence." I was drawn back.

"How do you know about that?" He gave me a look but didn't answer.

"Stay away from them." It wasn't a suggestion. And I don't like it when people boss me around.

"What's wrong with them?" I hope he didn't hear the helpless note in my tone. Dmitri sighed and shook his head.

"There's nothing _wrong_ with them. They're just… _wanted_." He must have seen by the look on my face that I had no idea what he was talking about. Then, as he opened his mouth, I understood. The Volturi wanted them to join. Maybe not all but definitely a majority of the group. "_That's_ why you should stick to staying in the shadows," he said, watching me carefully.

I _should_ stay in the shadows. It's what a vampire does. It's what we're supposed to do. Be the monster under children's beds and in their closets, only charging when they're old enough to understand. I've done well in the five centuries I have seen.

But then my mind changed to Alexei and no matter how much it hurt, I couldn't bring myself to regret being with him. Even if I never really loved him in the way a human would love another human. But I did care for him and it felt… good.

And I wasn't saying I was converting to their way of thinking or if I would ever see them again but I didn't want to be the monster right now. Probably someday soon – maybe tomorrow – I'll have a difference of opinion but right now I can't stand the thought of remaining invisible.

"No." Dmitri stopped any movement he was about to make. My voice was quiet, even, but worst – or best – of all; defiant.

"No?" I stood my ground. "It wasn't a suggestion."

"You don't own me. You can't tell me what to do. Just because you're afraid."

"And you would be wise to fear them as well." I clench my teeth. "I only want what's best for you." He came and stood in front of me, running the back of two fingers against my cheek.

"I know," I whispered, taking my hand up to the side of his face.

In a move he thought as endearing, I turned into horror. I grabbed a chunk of his hair and pulled him down. Knowing my intention – of course – Dmitri bit into the inside of my forearm. I gasped, clenched my left fist and punched it through his neck, severing the connection.

The body dropped hard in the floor. But his teeth continuously clutched onto my skin; digging. I actually had to pry his mouth open. His teeth slowly eased out of me. I breathed hard the entire time, feeling something strange. My arm pricked in pain and made my hand twitch as the skin started to burn – a very familiar sort of burning. The markings were very clear and shone deep silver. I clenched my eyes shut and dropped my forehead onto the wall.

"Fuck!" My voice was barely above a whisper but the pain made it feel a while lot louder. My legs gave in and for the first time in my second life I succumbed to mindless pain and fell to floor. My forehead scraped against the wall and I could barely keep myself from ripping the entire cottage to pieces.

After a little while I open my eyes and stare down at the scar. It would be there on my wrist for all eternity. And it itched like nothing I had ever felt before. My fingers twitch; watching to scratch and after maddening seconds I can't take it anymore.

Dmitri has betrayed me twice tonight. Once by letting those dogs almost tear me to pieces and second by still being in touch with the Volturi. He couldn't have known they wanted the Cullen's since he supposedly left in the mid sixteen-hundreds. That's long before the family fully came together.

My eyes strain over the thousands of books and papers strew over the room. Countless hours gathering all this information. I couldn't burn it down. For one, the whole forest would catch fire and that was too much unwanted publicity. And then he'd…

I glanced down at the unmoving body. I'm not sure why I couldn't pull the last metaphorical trigger. But I was stuck and I've apparently already made my mind up.

However…

I got outside and started digging several holes. They went deep. No one would find him unless I wanted them to. When I got back inside, I started the dismembering. It wasn't pleasant when I knew them or when I didn't. I picked up the pieces and strew them into the ground, pushing mountains of dirt over him.

I wasn't one hundred percent sure if I could ever – if I wanted to, that is – revive him. It might be beyond my control. But I'm no newcomer to being a vampire. I've seen some get their limps ripped right off and have it reattached hours later.

After blowing out the candles in the cabin, I thought for all of two seconds on what I wanted my next step to be.

A shower.

**AN: I had not anticipated this chapter growing so long. This is one where the words came pouring out. I didn't even have to think about it. It's nice when that happens. Either way; in the beginning – no matter how I wrote it – it always felt like a conclusion; an ending. But I'm so not done with this story. **

**Not sure how it will conclude but it's not in the forest of Russia, having just been mauled by a werewolf. **


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